Spiritus aduro
by HallieU
Summary: Charlie Weasley in Romania. Sometimes you don't know as much about your friends as you think...
1. Chapter 1 -Norbert the Norweigan Ridgeba...

Body **Spiritus aduro**

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**Part I **

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****_'Dear Charlie,_

_ Hi, how are you? I hope you're fine because we (Harry, Hermione and me) need your help. Hagrid's got a dragon, and we need to get rid of it. He's called Norbert, and he's a Norwegian Ridgeback. Anyway, Hagrid is very attached to Norbert but Draco Malfoy (I've told you about him - the Slytherin who hates us) has seen Norbert. At least, we think he has. So, Norbert's got to go. The sooner the better in my opinion. Hagrid's getting all maternal - you should hear him 'Oh, bless him, he knows his mummy!' The man is insane! Charlie, I'm counting on you. HELP!!!_

_Ron'_

Charlie Weasley chuckled as he read the letter his youngest brother had sent him, and then he handed it to his friend and roommate, Ariadne Rutherford. 

"Read that," he told her, smiling. "It's from Ron." 

"Should be interesting then," Ria commented. "Are you sure? He might have wanted it to be private." 

"If he wants help, Ria my sweet, he'll have to accept that other people will learn about it." 

"Now I'm intrigued," Ria smiled; brushing her long black hair out of eyes, which were so dark blue they were almost black. She sat opposite him at the small table and poured herself a cup of tea. Propping the letter up against the sugar bowl, she buttered her toast as she read it. 

"Well," she began, when she had finished reading, "some mothers do have 'em. So, Charlie... do all your brothers have an affinity with dragons?" 

"No, your holiness, just me," Charlie grinned at her, his hazel eyes sparkling mischievously. 

"So, what do you want me to do?" Ria demanded. 

"What do you mean, 'what do I want you to do'?" Charlie asked, innocently. 

"Come off it Chas, you know as well as I do that the grin you are currently sporting bodes nothing but trouble. So, what are we going to do?" 

"You're too suspicious, Ariadne Rutherford, that's your problem," Charlie glared at her. 

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Ria exclaimed. "Get on with it!" 

"Touchy touchy!" Charlie smirked at her. At twenty-four he was a pleasant looking man, easily distinguishable by the fiery red of his hair. "Actually, Ri, I was wondering if you could help." 

"You see, the second you called me Ri I knew you had something cooked up for me. Usually I get 'your holiness' and the like." 

"Well," Charlie glossed over the point, "between the two of us, we need to work out exactly how we're going to get Ron's dragon over here." 

"What do you mean 'we'? Is that we as in the Royal we?" 

"No, that's we as in you and me," Charlie replied. Ariadne backed away. 

"Oh no. Definitely not. There is no way I am aiding and abetting the transport of an illegal dragon. You're on your own, pal." 

"Ria!!" Charlie gazed at her beseechingly. "O love of my life, please, pretty please with a chocolate frog on top, and all the rest of it, help!" 

"Only if you drop the 'love of my life' bit. The neighbours already think there's something dodgy between us, let's not give them ammunition." 

"Ri, you're an angel!" Charlie beamed at her. "So, what do you propose we do?" 

"We _could_ do any number of things, including refuse," Ria pointed out. 

"And let Ron down? Ria, I was counting on you to come up with a good idea!" 

"Charlie, that was a good idea!" Ria told him, scathingly. "It just wasn't the good idea you were looking for." 

"Well, its not like I can just up sticks and leave, is it?" Charlie complained. "I'm busy for the next month, and Robert, Andrew and Dave are visiting, so spare time will be limited." 

"Rob, Andy and Dave live in Britain, don't they?" Ria demanded. 

"Yes. What's the relevance of that?" Charlie looked confused. Ria, on the other hand, had brightened considerably. 

"In that case it's easy. We'll rope them into helping. Write to them and ask - they're sure to agree. Your friends are into taking risks." 

"Ri, you're a genius!" Charlie grinned. "It's going to be great when the guys are staying here!" 

"Charlie, I am not sleeping on the floor when your friends are here. It's my house too." 

"When have I ever asked you to sleep on the floor?" Charlie demanded. 

"Several times," Ria replied. "Normally when you find yourself a pretty girl. And being the sucker that I am, I actually agree." 

"Okay, Ariadne Rutherford, I promise that I will not force you to sleep on the floor. Happy?" 

"Over the moon," Ria replied. 

Charlie Weasley had known Ariadne Rutherford ever since she had started her career at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Throughout school he had barely spoken to her. She was two years his junior, and there hadn't been any reason for their acquaintance to move beyond the occasional 'hello' in the corridors. 

Then, three years ago, Ria had joined the group of British wizards and witches who worked at the largest dragon reserve in the world. No one was exactly sure what Ria had done in the year between her finishing at Hogwarts and joining the Romanian team, and she never volunteered information on the subject. She and Charlie had quickly become the best of friends, and when she had announced her intention to purchase a house, if she could find a friend to buy it with, he had jumped at the chance of having a little independence. 

Of course, neither of them had considered that the neighbours would label them as a couple, and unmarried at that! Consequently they were frowned upon for cohabiting. At first, both had tried to explain that their relationship was purely platonic, but after a while, first Charlie and then Ria gave up. 

"You know, if my dad ever finds out, you're going to be _so_ dead it's unbelievable!" Ria told Charlie, smirking. 

"I don't suppose my mother will be overly happy. Especially if she believes the rumours that are going around!" 

"The rumours that are casting insinuations on my good name, you mean?" Ria demanded. "Yes, I don't suppose anyone would be too happy to hear those, least of all our parents. Honestly, can't you have a simple friendship with a guy these days?" 

"_I_ can," Charlie told her. "You, on the other hand, can't. It's all related to your innocent good looks, my dear." 

"Shut up, Charlie!" 

Charlie's friends replied to the owls he sent the promptly, and two days later, when Ria joined him at the breakfast table once more, he looked pensive. 

"Okay, whose cat just died?" She demanded, as she filled her cup with coffee, before grimacing as she realised what she was doing. "Um, Charlie? How many times do I have to tell you – tea goes in the teapot, not coffee? I swear you do it on purpose because you know I hate coffee!" 

"Oh, Ri, you figured me out!" Charlie put on an expression of mock sadness. "And there I was, thinking that I'm clever" 

"Oh, I'm laughing so hard," Ria replied sarcastically. "So, why are you in the doldrums?" 

"I got an owl from Dave," Charlie replied, at once serious. "It seems he thinks he's lost his touch. He says, and I quote, 'there is no way that I'm going anywhere near one of those insane creatures without some kind of trained professional assisting me.' So, now what do we do?" 

"Abandon the cause?" Ria suggested casually. "Tell Ron that you tried your best, but you just couldn't do it?" 

"Ria, how many times do I have to tell you that I can't leave Ron in the lurch!" 

"Ron can look after himself, Charlie, he's not a baby anymore. Anyway, Hagrid would be the one with a problem" on realising it was Hagrid who would have a problem, Ria frowned. She had a soft spot for the kindly giant who had taken her under his wing, thanks to her love for all kinds of wacky creatures. "I'd help if I could, but I'm going home for a few days – what can I do?" 

"That's it!" Charlie exclaimed. "Ria, you're a genius." 

"Twice in three days," Ria told the teapot. "Either I've become super intelligent over night, which I doubt, as I'm talking to a teapot, or else he wants something," she looked towards Charlie and sighed. "What now?" 

"Well, you're going home, aren't you?" he demanded. Ria nodded. "And you live in England, don't you?" Once again, Ria bobbed her head. "So, you could go with the guys to collect Norbert!" 

"Excuse me?" Ria stopped buttering her toast, and glared at her friend. "Did you just say I could help you transport a dragon – no, an _illegal_ dragon – over here from Hogwarts? Only I don't particularly fancy a spell in Azkaban for being in possession of Class A Non-Tradable goods!" 

"Ri, that's the eggs. The dragon's just illegal. Please help! Please?" Charlie looked at her beseechingly. Ria sighed. 

"I fall for it every time. I really need to increase my resistance to mindless gestures of sappiness. Okay, Charlie, you're on. But you're going to owe me – big time. Write to Ron, tell him we'll meet him at the top of the tallest tower on Saturday at midnight, for the cover of the night." 

"How poetic," Charlie smirked. 

"Look, Mister, do you want help or not?" 

"Fine, fine, I'll write to Ron!" Charlie knew only too well that it wasn't a good idea to annoy Ria. For one thing, she was incredibly strong, and for another, she was very often his only means of reaching a deadline. He supposed he used her shamelessly, but she was just as bad. 

"So, as I've just solved this year's biggest dilemma, do you think you could be so kind as to make some tea to go in the teapot? Feed the coffee to the plants – they seem to like it!" 

Ria was standing in the arrival lounge of Heathrow airport when a tall blonde woman approached her, smiling broadly. 

"Ri! Good to see you!" Ria's eldest sister, Lucy Kettleworth, grabbed her sister in a warm hug. "You look well – Romania suits you!" 

"Where are your sproglets?" Ria demanded. 

"At home, where do you think?" Lucy asked. 

"You've left your innocents at home alone?" 

"Come off it Ri, I'd be mad to let that lot stay at home unguarded. No, Geoff's with them." Geoff Kettleworth was Lucy's husband, and Ria's brother in law. 

"So, will I not see them?" 

"Of course you'll see them!" Lucy replied. "But Mums wants to see you first." 

"Good old Mums. How have you been? It's been too long." 

"Two years, Ariadne. Vickie wasn't even born the last time you made it home," Lucy's face contorted into a frown, then softened. "Ri, I know that it was hard for you, but remember that Mums and Daddy are always there for you. Us too – me and Becca, I mean. Even Gemma never wanted to see you hurt." 

"Well she shouldn't have done it then, should she?" Ria spat at her sister, and Lucy was shocked to see the pain in her eyes. 

"Ri, put it behind you. Mums worries about you, alone in Romania. There are a lot of evil people out there." 

"Luce, I'm not alone. There's always Charlie, and the gang." 

"That, Ri my sweet, is why Mums worries. She's scared he'll break your heart." 

"Charlie and I are just friends," Ria was thankful that none of her family knew that she lived with Charlie – her parents would quite literally hit the walls in anger at the idea of their daughter living alone with a single man. She smiled, suddenly. She adored Rosamunde and Alexander Rutherford, but biologically they were not her parents. She had been adopted. In her mind though, the Rutherfords were her family. She had known no other parents, and she didn't want to know any other parents. She had never wanted for love, or affection. She had always wondered why the Rutherfords, with three daughters already, had adopted her, and not some other baby. 

The Rutherfords lived in a large Tudor style house on the Isle of Sheppey in Kent. In the Middle Ages they had been very prestigious, and the family home was in Penshurst, a beautiful country house with all the trimmings of house-elves and the like. However, Alexander Rutherford was a second son, and when his brother, Adam, came of age, their father bequeathed the family home to him. When Alexander had married Rosamunde Sutton, Adam had still been unmarried, and Giles Rutherford suggested that the newlyweds lived at Penarddun Place. Gratefully, Alexander and Rosamunde had accepted, and they had brought up their daughters, Lucy, Rebecca, Gemma and Ariadne, in the peaceful confines of the house. Rosamunde had abandoned the Rutherford policy of having a nanny for her children, and had instead favoured the hands on approach that she herself had been used to. All four girls adored Penarddun, although now Ria was the only of the Rutherford girls to remain single. It was impossible to Apparate or Disapparate to Penarddun Place – it had been built at the same time as the English civil war raged, and the Rutherfords, supporters of the King, had gone to great lengths to ensure their own safety. Over the centuries, the Charms had weakened as the dust settled on the graves of those who had cast them, and now all that remained was the Anti-Apparation Charm. 

Ria and Lucy Apparated to just outside the wrought iron gates, and walked leisurely towards the whitewashed walls of their childhood home. As she regarded the old house, Ria couldn't help but feel that she was coming home. This place held too many happy memories for her to ever forget it. Walking down the long path, she fancied that she could hear the echoes of her childhood in the background. If she closed her eyes, she could see a much younger Lucy running around the garden, trying desperately to escape from Gemma, while Becca laughed in the background. 

Eventually they reached the huge oak door, and a petite woman whose blonde hair was beginning to show signs of greying greeted them happily. 

"Ria, my darling, let me look at you!" The pretty woman then hugged her daughter so tightly that Ria became slightly light headed. She wondered how her mother could possibly look at her at this proximity. Before she could voice this opinion, however, her mother held her at arm's length. 

"You've lost weight, my dear. Are you eating properly?" 

"Mum, I was overweight!" 

"Ariadne, voluptuous does not mean overweight!" 

"Well I'm scarcely anorexic! Come on mum – it's not like I'm a stick insect or anything – I'm just healthy!" 

"Come home, Ria," her mother told her. "You don't have to hide away in Romania. In time the pain will go." 

"Mums, I'm happy where I am!" Ria exclaimed. "You all think I'm some kind of ostrich, with my head buried firmly in the sand! I'm not at all! I know exactly what I'm doing, and where I plan on going with my life. I like working in Romania! I like the dragons, and the other creatures, and I like the people! Be happy for me – what happened happened – I've accepted that. I'm moving on, and you should do the same." 

"Ri, your mother worries about you," Alexander Rutherford told his daughter. "If you like your work then continue with it – although we wouldn't mind a few more letters, and perhaps more than one visit every two years" 

"I'm sorry," Ria told them. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, and I admit, I should probably visit home more often. But I'm happy where I am – I can forget there," she sighed, "I can forget," she repeated softly. 

Spending a week with her parents and sisters was refreshing, and it was nice to see her nephews and nieces. Olivia, her goddaughter, squealed with delight on seeing her. 

"Auntie Ria, you're home!" she exclaimed, launching herself at her favourite aunt. "Why did you stay away for so long?" 

"Well, Livvy, I met a wicked witch, and she kept me in a tower, and it's taken me this long to escape," Ria teased. 

"Really?" Olivia's eyes were wide with surprise. 

"No, not really, silly!" Ria smiled at her affectionately. "I was looking after the dragons, wasn't I, and time flies when you're having fun!" 

"Do you have pictures?" Olivia demanded. 

"Lots and lots of pictures," Ria told her. "Albums full of pictures, with lots of dragons. In a few years time, perhaps Mummy will let you come and stay with me." 

"Why not now?" Olivia looked delighted at the prospect of staying with her aunt in a foreign country with only dragons for company. "Why do I always have to wait?" She pouted, flicking her pigtails over her shoulder, her dark eyes glistening angrily, and very much like Ariadne at the same age, a source of great mystery as Ria was in no way biologically related. 

"Livvy, sweetie, I might as well tell you this now, because its always going to be an issue. You will always be too old for some things and too young for others, and you might as well accept that. You're only six, and your mother wouldn't be particularly impressed if I whisked you away. I'll ask your mum and Aunt Becca if I can take you and Claire on holiday for a couple of weeks in the summer. But we won't stay in Romania. It would be a busman's holiday. Perhaps we'll go to Egypt and see the pyramids and Sphinxes." 

"Oh, do ask Aunt Ria! Claire and I have never been on holiday on our own before And I'll be seven by then, and she'll be six and a half!" 

"I'll ask, Livvy, but I'm not promising anything. Promise you won't have a tantrum if your mother says no," Ria knew her niece well enough to realise that without a promise, her sisters would never hear the end of it. With one, Olivia would keep quiet. For a six-year-old, she had very good morals, whereby if she gave a promise, she stuck to it. 

Reluctantly, Olivia gave her word, and Ria breathed a sigh of relief. By the end of the week, she had convinced her mother that she was in fact perfectly capable of living away from home, and she didn't need fattening up, and she had persuaded her sisters to allow their eldest children to visit her when summer rolled around. Meaning that there wasn't really all that long for Olivia and Claire to wait. 

Leaving was harder than Ria had anticipated. In spite of herself, she had enjoyed catching up with the people who had made her into the woman she now was. But she had a job to do, and she owed it to Charlie to actually make it as far as Hogwarts on time. She had arranged to meet Robert, Andrew and David at King's Cross station. From there, they would catch the train to Hogsmeade, and then they would rescue Norbert, leaving everybody happy. If they managed to pull it off. 

"Ariadne! How are you?" David Loughton greeted her. "On time! Charlie would be impressed!" 

"Charlie, Dave my dear, was the one who made us late," Ria replied, smiling as she took the hand he offered. "How are you? I don't believe you got yourself hitched. Who's the lucky lady? More to the point, why isn't she joining us on our mission of mercy?" 

"The lucky lady? I'm sure Florence will disagree with you on that count. And why isn't she here? She's not here, because she's seven months pregnant with our firstborn. She said I was welcome to visit Charlie, as long as I didn't expect her to go along looking like a beached whale." 

"And that, Dave, my dear," Ria told him, sweetly, "is one of the reasons why I am never going to tie the knot." 

"Hark at her," Robert Daniels smirked at the dark haired girl next to him. "Rumour, has it, Ri, my sweet, that you were engaged once. So what went wrong?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. The jovial girl of earlier was no more; the Ria that stood next to him meant business. 

"Rob, I've told you before, and I'll tell you again – my love life is no one's business but my own. And we have a job to do, so if you could prise Andrew away from the brunette he's attempting to chat up, I'd appreciate it." Rob and Dave frowned at her sudden change of mood, then shrugged, and went off to rescue their friend. 

On the way to Hogsmeade, Ria caught up on all of the gossip. By the time they reached their destination, she knew exactly how Dave had met the love of his life and exactly what it was that Andrew did in his work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

"Andy, why did you give up a perfectly respectable post in Romania, doing what you loved, and getting well paid for it, to work in a department that seems to be as dead as a door post. And if you're with the Ministry, should you be helping us?" 

"Ri, just because it sounds boring, it doesn't mean it is boring! And it pays a damn sight better than the Romania job." 

"Please tell me you aren't just doing it for the money!" 

"I'd never do anything purely for money, and you know it. Believe it or not, it's fascinating." 

"Would you tell me exactly what you find fascinating about playing with paperwork all day?" Dave asked, curiously. 

"Oh, come off it Dave, you can't talk," Robert said, scathingly. "You run a pet shop, for goodness' sake!" 

"Don't slight the pet shop!" Dave laughed. "That shop is my life. Florrie's very attached to all our little lodgers. And they pay our bills, so I'm not complaining. It's certainly more sociable than Romania." 

"That, much as I hate to admit it," Ria told him, "is true. The hours at the dragon reserve aren't exactly friendly. But I love those dragons!" 

"And they love you, Ri, so don't you fret. And, if I'm not mistaken, this is our stop." 

"Genius!" Ria laughed. "Give the man a gold star. Come on then smarty, let's make our way to the pub and get some butterbeer." 

"Only butterbeer?" Robert looked disappointed. "Can't we have something stronger?" 

"No. We're working." 

"You're a hard taskmaster Ariadne Rutherford, you know that, don't you?" 

"Yes, Rob, I do. I also know that as soon as we make it back to Romania, you three and Charlie will head out for a night on the town, leaving me all on my lonesome, unless I can persuade Sam to come over for the evening, and I doubt she will. Still, you never know" 

"Indeed you don't. Well, being as we're in the only completely wizarding town in England again, why don't we do some shopping? Dave, didn't you say that Florence had cravings for those cockroach clusters they do at Honeydukes?" 

"I did indeed," Dave agreed with Andrew. Ria looked at them, disgust registering on her face. 

"She craves cockroach clusters? That's disgusting!" 

"That, Ria, is pregnancy," Dave informed her. 

"Of course, you'd know, having been pregnant so many times yourself!" Ria retorted, sarcastically. 

"You know Ri, when you and Charlie eventually make it as far as admitting you entertain romantic notions about each other, and then take a plunge and get married, and actually make it as far as expecting, no one will laugh harder than I do!" 

"Charlie and I are friends! F-R-I-E-N-D-S!" she spelt it out. "What is it with you people and marrying us off?" 

"Come on Ariadne, admit it! The two of you make a great couple!" 

"The two of us make a non-existent coupleOh, and guys!" The three men turned to look at her. "The Weasleys don't know about Charlie and I living together, and we'd like to keep it that way, so watch what you say, okay?" They gaped at her, before nodding agreeably. 

It was twenty minutes to midnight when they finally set off for Hogwarts. 

"Was it really necessary to change what you were wearing about sixty times?" David demanded of Ria. "We're going to steal a dragon, not create a fashion show!" 

"Exactly. So I had to make sure that I was in dragon friendly mode. And Norbert is a Norwegian Ridgeback, and they don't seem to like me as much as other dragons." 

"That's the understatement of the century!" Robert laughed. "Of course, you would be allergic to their poison, just to make matters ten times worse!" 

"Thank you so much for that reminder Robert!" Ria replied, sarcastically. "Now, if we could get moving, or Ron and friends will think we're not coming." The men acknowledged the truth of her words, and without further ado, mounted their brooms. Ria regarded them with cool contempt. "You three should be in a circus, you know that?" With one quick movement, Ria was in the sky, and flying like a professional. 

"Ri, can I ask you something?" Dave asked. 

"You just did, but I'll allow another." 

"Why on earth are you working in Romania chasing dragons and earning a pittance when you fly like that? You could play Quidditch professionally." 

"Dave, have you ever met my mother?" Ria asked him. 

"Erm, no." 

"Exactly. Mums is what you might call overprotective, and terribly old fashioned. She doesn't think Quidditch is ladylike." 

"Pardon?" 

"You heard. Actually, I think she just doesn't like it. My dad's pretty good on a broom, but my mum has vertigo, bless her. And don't just sit there gaping – we're late enough as it is!" 

"She still hasn't said why she had to change so many times!" David complained, as they flew towards Hogwarts. When they were close enough to see the tallest tower, they could faintly make out the profiles of two figures. On landing, Ria took a good look at the waiting students. One was male and one female, but neither of them looked anything like the Ron of Charlie's pictures. Sighing, she decided she might as well take the plunge. 

"Hi, I'm Ariadne Rutherford, I believe you have a dragon waiting for me?" 

"You must be Charlie's friend!" the girl greeted her, her brown hair bushy, her eyes bright. "I'm Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter." 

Ria started at the mention of Harry Potter. Of course, she should have anticipated his presence, after all, Charlie had mentioned that his little brother had become best friends with the boy who, as a baby, had rid the wizarding world of a terror too great to contemplate. 

"Are we talking about Harry Potter, as in _the _Harry Potter?" Ria had asked. 

"How many other Harry Potters do you know, your holiness?" Charlie had replied. 

"Potter's not exactly an uncommon name, and neither is Harry, smarty!" 

"Yes, dear, we're talking Harry Potter, as in _the _Harry Potter!" 

Ria smiled, recalling the conversation. She offered her hand to Harry. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last," she told him, smiling infectiously. Ria had never been one for scenes, and she could imagine the boy's embarrassment if she made a big thing about who he was. Dave, Andy and Rob were a different kettle of fish, but at her warning look, they echoed her tame greeting. Ria then turned her attention to Hermione. 

"Pleased to meet you Hermione – Ron's told Charlie so much about you – both of you. Hermione - another name with a Greek origin!" Ria smiled. "Thank goodness I'm not the only one!" 

"I think Ariadne's a pretty name," Hermione told her. "Ron said to say he's sorry he's not here, but Norbert bit him, and it's got all infected. He should have gone to Madam Pomfey earlier if you ask me." 

"Don't worry about it; Dave, Rob, Andy and I can manage with your help." 

"Hagrid put Norbert in a crate for you, so that he can travel easily," Hermione explained. 

"Well, we'll put the crate in here," Ria waved a bizarre looking creation that she had rigged to make it easier to transport Norbert at everyone, and it was a case of all hands on deck. 

Eventually their work was complete, and all four of them shook hands with Harry and Hermione. Ria issued one last warning. 

"Whatever you do, don't get caught. McGonagall angry during the day is bad. McGonagall angry in the middle of the night is suicidal. Take care you two, and send our regards to Ron!" 

On arrival in Romania they were greeted by an anxious looking Charlie. On seeing them, he brightened considerably. 

"It all went to plan then?" he demanded. 

"Yes, Cap'n, no thanks to you!" Ria retorted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed before I don't have one. I'll leave Norbert for you to sort out." 

Charlie stared after her, suddenly concerned. 

"What's wrong with Ria?" he asked. 

"I don't know," Dave replied. "She's been really weird since she met us. Ever since Rob asked about her failed engagement, in fact." 

"Engagement?" Charlie looked at him blankly. 

"You mean you didn't know? Where have you been, man? It made the front page of the Daily Prophet! That they'd split up, I mean, not why." 

"Who had split up?" 

"None other than our very own Ariadne, and the man she _was_ affianced to, Aidan Pontin." 

"Ria was never engaged!" Charlie was having a difficult time comprehending the idea that Ria had ever had a significant other that significant. 

"Oh, come off it Charlie, it's not that surprising. She's a pretty enough girl, and her parents have got more than a little cash. Besides which, Ria is a lovely person." 

"Dave, you don't get it – we're talking about Ria here – Ariadne Rutherford – possibly the only member of the team not to have had an other half at some point!" 

"And why do you think that is, Charlie?" 

"Look, discussing Ria's love life isn't what we're here for, and it's not really fair. If she's not said anything about it, then who are we to press the matter? And nattering about Ariadne isn't helping poor old Norbert out of that crate and into the wild!" The men knew Charlie Weasley well enough to know that the discussion was closed, and they set about helping him to free a very irate Norwegian Ridgeback. 

When Ria got up for work the next morning, she was unsurprised to find three inebriated men adorning the floor of the living room. What did surprise her was Charlie's sober state. 

"Morning Charlie," she greeted him, cheerfully. "Why aren't you drunk?" 

"I like that," Charlie grimaced. "If I'm drunk, you complain because I'm not sober. If I'm sober, you complain because I'm not drunk! I can't win!" 

"I wasn't complaining," Ria hastened to reassure him. "Just surprised. Do you want some breakfast?" 

"It depends – what are you making?" 

"Toast. And tea. And that's pretty much it – we need to go shopping. Someone seems to have eaten us out of house and home in the past week," she looked at Charlie pointedly. "And as I wasn't here, it rather narrows down the choices. Do you want breakfast or not?" 

"I might as well," Charlie told her. "It makes a change for you to be the one doing the cooking. Do _try_ not to burn the toast." 

"I like that!" Ria exclaimed, in mock outrage. "I've never burnt a slice of toast in my life!" 

"Liar!" Charlie grinned at her. She seemed to be back to normal now, not so tense, and all together much nicer to be with. Whether it was a good night's sleep, or being back in Romania, he didn't know, and he didn't really care. As long as she was happy, that was the main thing. 

_And that, my dears, is it. For now. Comments – whether good, bad or downright annoying are always welcome. _

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**_Thanks to:_** Hey, I'm not an ingrate, the guys who helped to make this a halfway decent fic deserve commendation! 

_Andy/Sirius: Thanks hon, much appreciated I'm sure. Those of you who haven't go and read Back To The Future. It's** very** good. Not that he needs more reviews, but I have an opportunity to plug, so I'm going to do so. Take a bow for being responsible for Ria actually talking to Harry in his capacity as the famous Harry Potter._

_Arabella: Your comments are always much appreciate. You're always so involved in the story, its very encouraging. Thanks just for being available to read through my scribbles for me. _

_Alyssi/Mara: You make my day, you know that? Thank you for all the encouragement (although you never did say whether Ria and Charlie should get together or not)._

_Jen: Thank you for taking the time to read this, and then to give me feedback. I know we're all busy, busy people, and I really do appreciate people who take that little bit of extra time to tell me what they think. _

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**And to finish, a quote (purely because I'm an intellectual, and I collect quotes): **

**_'There are only two ways to live your life: one is as though nothing is a miracle; the other is as if everything is. I believe in the latter.' ALBERT EINSTEIN._**


	2. Chapter 2 - Cousins and Cuisine

Body Spiritus aduro 

**__**This is dedicated to my lovely friend Amanda. All credit for the wackier parts of this goes to her – its amazing what you can come up with when you're suffering from exam-itis. Incidentally, we planned this in January, and it is now June. That's school for you. Still, by the time this is posted, school will be out for summer! *Cheers* Considering 'Manda's never actually read HP, this has turned out quite well, methinks. 

**Part II******

****

****"CHARLES!!" Charlie stirred in his sleep. "CHARLES JOHN WEASLEY, YOU GET OUT HERE NOW!!!" 

"Mum?!" he moaned. "Leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep!" He pulled the duvet over his head in an effort to block out the sound. 

"Charles Weasley, you'll get up now, or something very heavy and very wet will descend on you from a great height!" That wasn't his mother. That was Ariadne, and she didn't sound too happy. In fact, she sounded the reverse of happy. 

"Ria? Go back to sleep! It's too early!" 

"Charlie, dear, its half past eleven in the morning! That, in my book, is not early!" 

"Go away!" Charlie complained. However, instead of leaving, Ria pulled the curtains open, and light flooded the room. Even with his eyes closed, Charlie could detect the change, and he winced. 

"What?" he asked, grumpily, burying his head under the pillow, and regretting the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night, in honour of his friends leaving Romania. 

"What do you mean, 'what'!" Ria demanded. "Drinking yourself into liver failure is one thing. Drinking yourself into liver failure and leaving the bottles lying around for all to see is quite another!" 

With that, Ria stomped out of the room. 

"Is it just me, or was that Ria doing her best to emanate a human whirlwind?" he asked himself softly. 

"No, that was Ria threatening to subject you to all three Unforgivables so slowly that by the time I've finished with you, you'll be begging for death." Clearly Charlie hadn't spoken softly enough. 

Dear Lord, she was turning into his mother! As if one Molly Weasley wasn't enough for the world! Charlie loved his mother dearly, but that didn't alter the fact that he had given up answering to anyone when he left home - although Molly still had the power to make him shake in his shoes. Sighing, he left the comfort of his bed for the shower. 

Half an hour later, he joined Ria in the kitchen. The flat that Ria and Charlie occupied had six rooms – the kitchen, dining room, bathroom, living room and two bedrooms – but Charlie's favourite was the kitchen. It reminded him of the kitchen at The Burrow – organised but cluttered. Ria had stuck various paintings, letters and photographs sent to her by her nieces and nephews on to the cupboards. When Ria had offered him cupboard space, Charlie had retorted that Ron and Ginny were a bit beyond sending him paintings, and as Bill hadn't made it as far as marrying yet, much less having children, he assumed it would be a while before he was needing it. 

Ria had carelessly tossed brochures of holiday resorts on to the table by the door. She had been studying them in an effort to decide where to take Claire and Olivia in the summer, but so far, none had caught her fancy. In a glass coaster, both Charlie and Ria had dumped their house keys, and a pot containing Floo powder was perched precariously on the edge of the table. 

"Have you finished?" Ria demanded. 

"Yes, your holiness," Charlie replied. 

"Good – Uncle Adam wrote yesterday, he and Georgia – you know, my cousin – well, they're visiting Romania at the moment, and Uncle Adam is coming to visit us." 

"Why?" Charlie asked, curiously. 

"Why not?" Ria shrugged. "Look at it this way – it's better for Uncle Adam to come than it is for my parents – they don't know about you." 

"Charming!" Charlie complained. 

"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," Ria replied. "It's not like you mentioned me to your mother, either!" 

"And what, may I ask, am I supposed to call Uncle Adam and Cousin Georgie?" Charlie demanded. 

"Uncle Adam would be Sir Rutherford," Ria began. Charlie's jaw dropped. 

"Nice of you to mention that – three years, and I don't think baronets came into it!" Ria shrugged. 

"The subject's never arisen. And for goodness' sake, don't call Georgia 'Georgie' if you want to last the evening out. She hates it." 

"Why?" 

"_Georgie Porgie pudding and pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry!_" Ria recited. 

"It'll have to be Georgie now!" Charlie grinned, wickedly. 

"You dare!" Ria glared at him. 

"It's all right, Oh Holy One, her father is a _Sir_ – I'm not going to put a toe out of line," Charlie reassured her, innocently. But there was an evil glint in his eye as he said it. 

For Charlie and Ria, work didn't have regular hours, per se, they were expected to work as and when they were needed. So, when Charlie arrived home at 6:30, after leaving a content Common Welsh Greenand her mate in the enclosure, he was unsurprised to find Ria already at the flat. What did surprise him was the scene that met him when he entered the kitchen. Ria, a smudge of butter on her nose and flour in her hair, was pouring over a cookbook, whilst beating something that looked distinctly inedible in a bowl. 

"Um, Ri?" Charlie looked at her inquisitively. 

"Well, they have to eat something, don't they!" she told him. "Somehow Georgia can always tell the difference between something made by hand and something made using magic. She reckons the hand made stuff has a better flavour." Charlie merely raised his eyebrows at the mess the kitchen was in and the contents of the bowl. 

"Ria, my dear, do you actually know _how_ to cook? Only the one time I let you near the oven you nearly burnt the house down!"  
"Weelll, vaguely," Ria replied sheepishly. "Mums taught us all the rudiments of Muggle cookery when we were tots - before we could actually use magic, but I was never really all that good at it, and after Hogwarts I just bought a cookbook at Flourish and Blotts, and let my wand do the rest." 

"Rather badly, I hasten to add. What exactly are you trying to make?" Charlie asked. 

"Carrot and artichoke soup for a starter," Ria gestured towards a saucepan full of lumpy orange liquid that was closer to the colour of the Chudley Cannons robes than anything Charlie had seen in his life. 

"Right," Charlie looked doubtful, "and?" 

"Coq au Vin for a main course," Ria looked rather worried herself. "It's supposed to be really easy – I've got this," she held up the cookbook. 

"_Delia Smith's Complete Cookery Course_," Charlie read. 

"Yes, It's very interesting. The problem is, this whole Coq au Vin thing is more complicated than I thought – you have to boil the wine for about an hour, and I'm a bit worried – it seems to be sticking to the bottom of the pan" Ria shrugged helplessly. Charlie snatched the cookbook from her. 

"Ri, it says to simmer the wine for an hour, not burn the bottom out of the pan!" he exclaimed, peering into a pan full of red wine. "Honestly, why couldn't you have gone with something simple like an omelette?!" 

"Oh, can you cook properly then?" Ria looked hopeful. 

"Can I cook properly? Darlin', you ain't seen nothin' until you've seen Charlie Weasley in a Muggle kitchen," Charlie informed her, roguishly. 

"Don't call me darlin'," she said, distractedly. "Aidan used to call me darlin'." 

"What was that?" Charlie asked. 

"Nothing," Ria replied. "You'll see to the Coq au Vin then?" 

"Ri, dear, I'd actually like to live to see the end of this meal," Charlie informed her. "At the rate you're going, we'll all have food poisoning by the end of it. I'm taking charge. Just do as you're told, and you'll be fine." 

"What about pudding?" Ria asked timidly. 

"What did you have in mind?" 

"Cardinal Peaches with Cream," Ria informed him. 

"We can probably manage that," Charlie told her. "Now, for goodness sake, sieve your soup before it turns into I don't even want to think about what it will turn into!" 

Mutely, Ria did as she was told. Charlie concentrated on cooking. Honestly, she was twenty-one years old and couldn't cook without the aid of magic. At Hogwarts, Charlie had taken Muggle Studies in an effort to understand his father's fascination with their culture. During this time, he had learnt all about Muggle cooking techniques, and, if he was brutally honest, he actually enjoyed being King of the Kitchen. 

By seven o'clock, everything was going smoothly – the soup was keeping warm on the stove, and the Coq au Vin was simmering in the oven. Ria had disappeared to change out of her very Muggle shorts and shirt, and Charlie supposed he ought to follow her example. 

The doorbell rang at dead on half past seven. Ria hurried to the door, throwing it open to reveal a man of anything between forty and fifty years of age, and a young woman not much older than Ria herself. Before she had a chance to say anything, the girl had flung herself on to her. 

"Ria!" she exclaimed, "you look so well! And you've lost weight! It's been ages since I've seen you!" 

"Georgia, Uncle Adam, how lovely to see you!" Ria replied. "This is my friend, Charlie Weasley. Charlie, Uncle Adam and Georgia." 

"Pleased to meet you," Charlie said, formally. 

"So, you're the live-in lover," Georgia gave him the once over. Charlie spluttered, and Ria coughed. "Come on Ri, you didn't think you could keep it secret, did you? Why else would you be living in the wilds of Romania?" 

"I like dragons," Ria pointed out. 

"Yes, you always were more interested in that stupid Kneazle you found in the woods than you were in _normal_ girly things. I don't know why Uncle Alex let you keep it – it was always nasty to me!" 

"Kelsie was lovely!" Ria told her cousin. "She was also mine. Not mine and Gemma's or mine and Becca's, but mine! And I've always been perfectly normal, thank you very much!" 

"Come off it, Ri! Your parents found you abandoned on the doorstep! You're scarcely normal!" 

Charlie looked at Georgia, amazed that she could say such a thing. He knew Ria worshipped the ground her family walked on, adopted or not. And her family clearly returned the adoration with interest if the frequent letters from them were anything to go by. He glanced at his friend. Ria was clearly trying to control her temper. 

"Yes, well Why don't we all have dinner?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. 

"Good idea!" Adam Rutherford was enthusiastic. 

Ria and Charlie's dining room was rarely used – both of them preferred to eat at the pine table in front of the kitchen window. However, when guests visited it was very practical. The small room was decorated with dark red walls and mahogany furniture. On the walls were various paintings, and a vase of flowers was arranged on the windowsill. 

Sir Rutherford and Georgia sat down at the table, and Ria and Charlie nipped into the kitchen. Ria smiled affectionately in Charlie's direction as she ladled soup into the bowls. 

"You're an angel and I love you," she told him. 

"I know, but what can I do?" he replied, returning her grin. "Take the food in, woman, before it gets cold." 

"Aye aye, sir," she replied, mischievously, and ducked as he flicked a tea towel in her direction. 

"Carrot and artichoke soup?" Georgia looked at her cousin incredulously. "How very quaint. I was expecting something moredownmarket," 

"Oh, we know how to entertain guests, don't we Charlie," Ria replied, but her smile was forced. 

"Its very good, Ariadne dear. Did you cook?" Ria looked to Charlie for help. 

"More of a joint effort, sir," he told Sir Rutherford, tactfully. 

"Oh, are you one of these 'new age' men? Never could see the appeal of being at a woman's beck and call, myself, but I suppose times change." 

"I expect Charlie was being charitable, Daddy. You know what Ria's like in the kitchen – do you remember my eighth birthday? She tried to bake me a cake and used salt instead of sugar. Honestly, Ri, you were terribly haphazard!" 

"I think Ria's culinary expertise has improved with age," Charlie replied, gallantly. 

"You mean her culinary skills were much augmented by the addition of a wand," Georgia replied disdainfully. "Now, my mamma, she cooked properly – a very hands-on experience. For the flavour, you know. Using magic, it's just not the same." 

Conversation continued in this vein throughout the evening, Georgia taking every opportunity to snipe at her cousin. Charlie was amazed that Ria stood for it – had anybody else said anything of the nature Georgia was to Ria, they would have ended up in hospital with a broken nose. 

When, at last, they had gone, Ria collapsed in to a chair, and helped herself to a large glass of wine. Charlie watched her with interest. 

"You don't normally hit the bottle," he said, concerned. 

"I don't normally have Georgia ramming my 'unrelated' state down my throat either," Ria pointed out. "Do we have anything stronger?" 

Calmly, Charlie removed the now empty glass from her hand. 

"No, Ri, we don't, and even if we did, I wouldn't give it to you." 

"And why bloody not?" Ria demanded. 

"Because getting yourself falling over drunk is not going to do you any good."  
"Oh, genius!" Ria replied, sarcastically. "I'm well aware of that, but it might help." 

"Ri, ignore her," Charlie was only too aware that Georgia's snide remarks about being unwanted had hit Ria hard. 

"She was bloody right though, wasn't she!" Ria replied, and Charlie realised that she was fighting tears. "I wasn't wanted, was I. My parents thought so much of me that they left me on the doorstep! Every damned body hates me!" 

"Stop it!" Charlie exclaimed. This wasn't the Ria he knew, full of bubbly pride and optimism. "Your whole family loves you, so don't give me that codswallop about everyone hating you!" 

"How could you possibly understand?" Ria asked him. 

"I have lived with you for three damn years, Ria, how could I not understand you?" 

"You don't know the half of it," Ria told him, morosely. 

"So tell me," Charlie replied. But Ria just sat there, silently, watching the fire as the embers glowed orange. "Ariadne, listen to me. I'd never force you to do anything, and I'm certainly not going to pressure you to tell me. But remember this. If ever you need a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear to listen to, or whatever, I'm always here for you." 

"I think I'll go to bed now," Ria told him. "Leave the dishes and everything. We can do them in the morning." As she walked past him, Charlie stood up and hugged her. 

"Night, Ri," he said, quietly. 

"Night." 

"Morning!" Ria greeted Charlie, happily. It was a week since Adam and Georgia had visited, and neither Charlie nor Ria had broached the subject of their calling since that night. 

"You're chirpy today," Charlie told her. "What do you want for breakfast?" 

"Full English?" Ria asked, hopefully. 

"So demanding," Charlie sighed. "If you want a cooked breakfast, you'll have to do the washing up." 

"Deal. And don't skimp on the mushrooms!" Laughing, Ria left the room, and presently the sound of running water and singing indicated that she was in the shower. 

"_Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, _'_cause you're not welcome anymore_" 

Smiling to himself Charlie stuck some toast under the grill. Ria was clearly in high spirits this morning. He recognised the song she was singing as a Muggle one – something about surviving without men. Well, Ria could certainly do that, although Charlie wondered what she'd do about feeding herself if he wasn't there. 

When Ria reappeared, fully clothed, and still humming, breakfast was ready. 

"Cheers, chum," Ria smiled at Charlie. "What would I do without you?" 

"Starve," Charlie replied. 

"You know, you're probably right," Ria told him. "Are you doing anything interesting today?" 

"Looking after dragons, same as every day," Charlie replied. "The Hebridean Black's got some kind of infection, and I promised Joe I'd help him with her today." 

"Poor thing," Ria was sympathetic. 

"Who, me or the dragon?" Charlie asked. 

"The dragon, dear. Although, I wouldn't want to be you, not for all the tea in China." 

"Why not?" 

"You mean excepting or including the fact that you're male?" Ria smirked. Charlie raised his eyebrows at her, and she relented. "Because its breeding time for good old Dolly, and I doubt she's going to be too impressed with you lot poking her." 

"Dolly?" 

"The Hebridean Black, dear. Just because you don't name your animals!" 

"I do too – and what kind of name is Dolly?" 

"Ask Joe – he called her it. Great breakfast, ta. I'd better go, or I'll be late. Au revoir!" And with that, Ria was gone. 

"But what about the dish- Oh, what's the point? Ria, I'm going to kill you!" Charlie sighed, and set to washing up. 

Charlie was perched on the fence of the dragon enclosure that was housing Dolly, the Hebridean Black, watching the beast with interest. Dolly was anything but docile, her purple eyes were flaring wildly as she realised that there was no escape. The fence had nothing to do with Dolly's enclosed state – what use would a flimsy wooden structure be against twenty-four feet of raging dragon? No, the fence was a visible reminder of the whereabouts of a force field that prevented Dolly from leaving the treatment zone. Dolly's long tail thrashed around angrily, the arrow shaped spike on the end tearing up the ground, ruthlessly efficient. Charlie was glad that he wasn't going anywhere near the beautifully wild creature until she had been well and truly Stunned. 

Half an hour later, Dolly was finally submersed in a blissful sleep, and Charlie felt safe in approaching her. He was joined by Joe MacFusty, the man in the know when it came to Hebridean Blacks. Joe had descended from the MacFusty wizard clan. For centuries the MacFustys had dwelt in the Hebrides, and it was traditional for them to take responsibility for their native dragons. When Joe had been offered a position at the Romanian reserve, he had jumped at the chance of widening his expertise, but he remained first and foremost, a Hebridean specialist. 

"Do you have any idea what might be wrong with her?" Charlie asked his stocky companion. Joe shrugged. 

"I cannae tell, Weasley. It could be nothin' for all I know, but it's best to be safe." 

"You've got that right!" Charlie agreed. He had been working with dragons for long enough to know that a sick dragon was a murderous dragon. 

"You have to be careful with this wee lassie," Joe muttered to himself, as much as to Charlie. "She'll be bein' a bit tender I reckon, what with it bein' matin' season an' all." Cautiously he approached Dolly. "I reckon its probably something to do with her left wing – she's not been flyin' properly," gently Joe eased Dolly's wing open. Her wing span was huge, but it was evident to both Charlie and Joe that they had found the source of the problem. 

"Fungus," Charlie said, grimacing. "A pretty bad bout of it, too!" Dragons were very susceptible to fungi, their wings were particularly vulnerable, thanks to the multiple creases. "Poor thing – no wonder she was a bit touchy!" 

"Aye, its fungus," Joe agreed. "We should be thankful its nothing worse - it could have been anything. That's the Unigolu fungus, it'll be a matter of giving her an infusion to sort that out. I'll get Sam or someone to see to it that Dolly gets a large enclosure, and give them some stuff to put in her water, and within a week she'll be as right as rain, won't you lass?" Joe smiled down at the dragon, and then made for the gate. "You stay here and keep an eye on her Charlie – I'll be back soon," and with that, he was gone. 

When he returned, he was accompanied by a tall woman whose blonde hair was pulled back in an untidy ponytail, and whose eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses. 

"Watcher Sammy!" Charlie greeted the newcomer, "how're you doing?" 

"Fine, thank you very much, how's Ri?" 

"Her holiness is very well, and observing Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, who is in fact, Norbertina. She's actually very attached to her, for some strange reason." 

"Hark at the pot calling the kettle black!" Samantha Kingston was twenty-seven, and had known Charlie ever since he had begun working at the Romanian Reserve. "I seem to recall a certain Percy the Peruvian Vipertooth took your fancy a few years back." 

"He reminded me of my brother!" Charlie complained. 

"Whatever you say, sweetie. Now, much as I'd love to stay and chat, Dolly needs to be moved before she recovers from whatever spell it is that you used on her. So I'd better get a move on." 

"All right Sam, I'll talk to you later." 

"That you will, Charlie-boy, that you will. Come on, Joe, lets get Dolly to her temporary home." 

As the two of them left, a large dragon suspended in the air between them, someone dug Charlie in the ribs. He swung around to see a smiling red head sporting a fang earing and ponytail. 

"Bill! What are you doing here?" Charlie looked at his brother incredulously. William Weasley, the eldest of the Weasley clan, and academically the most successful – although Percy could give his brother a run for his money – smirked at Charlie happily, and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"The higher ups at Gringotts sent me to negotiate with a Romanian noble about the money she owes them. Heaven only knows why they sent me – I'm a curse breaker, not a diplomat, but they did, and as I was in the area, I thought that I'd visit you, and veto this Ariadne of yours." 

"She's not _mine_!" Charlie protested, "we just live together." 

"Well if there's nothing going on, why haven't you told our darling mother of your current situation?" Bill looked at his brother questioningly, blue eyes sparkling mischievously. 

"Come off it, Bill! You know what Mum's like – I can just see it now. 'Mum, I've shacked up with my best friend, who just so happens to be female.' 'Oh, Charlie, how wonderful – when's the wedding?'" Charlie did a perfect imitation of his mother, and Bill guffawed with laughter. 

"You have a point there – she's been agitating at me to get married and have children for ages. 'By the time I was your age I was married with two children!'" 

"Good old Mum," Charlie smiled. "She's going to be even worse next year, when Ginny goes to Hogwarts, she'll be desperate for more babies in the family!" 

"Looks like you and young Ariadne may have to hook up after all, mate." 

"The day Ri and I get together is the day that we all wake up and realise that this whole caboodle has been a pleasant dream, and in fact Harry Potter never did defeat Voldemort," 

"Talking of Harry Potter, did you know that he, Ron and some kid called Hermione Granger are all best friends?" 

"Of course," Charlie grinned, "Ria's even met them." 

"Ria's met who?" Another voice joined the conversation. 

"Harry and Hermione," Charlie explained. "Bill, this is Ariadne Rutherford, flatmate extraordinaire. Your holiness, my brother, Bill, curse-breaker and general good-for-nothing." 

"You can call me Ria, or Ri," Ariadne told Bill, smiling. "Most people do," she glared pointedly at Charlie as she said this, and he smirked at her, innocently, if such a thing were possible. 

"Come on, Oh great high holy one, you know you love me really," Charlie grinned. Ria noticed Bill's confused look, and hastened to explain. 

"Ariadne was the ancient Greek goddess of holiness," she explained. "Charlie thinks its funny to utilise that meaning." Bill merely grinned. 

"I'm beginning to feel sorry for poor Ginny," Ria told the two men. "I'm surprised she hasn't had a nervous break-down by now. And I thought Becca's Jeremy was bad!" 

"Who's Becca?" Bill asked. 

"My sister. Jeremy is her husband. You'd get on well with him," Ria told him. "Incidentally, Chas, my dear, are you staying here all day, or coming home for dinner? Oh, and Beth wants to know if you plan on visiting Percy the Peruvian Vipertooth this evening? Apparently its about time you paid a visit." 

"Percy the Peruvian Vipertooth?" Bill raised his eyebrows at his brother. 

"What?! He reminded me of Perce – full of hot air!" Charlie replied. Bill looked at him, and the two of them started laughing. 

"Have I missed something?" Ria asked. "And are you coming home, or not?" 

"Yes, Ria, we're coming," Charlie replied. "Lead the way, fair maiden." 

"_If music be the food of love, play on,_

_Give me excess of it, that surfeiting_

_The appetite may sicken and so die_

_That strain again, it has a dying fall_" 

"You see, if you'd told me you were going to shack up with a lunatic, I'd never have believed you," Bill told Charlie. "Sadly, I have been proved wrong. What is that she's wittering, anyway?" 

"Don't be nasty," Charlie chastised him, grinning. "Apparently, it's the opening scene from Shakespeare's 'Twelfth Night'. And you should be thankful – the other day she did the death scene from 'A Midsummer Nights Dream' – actually, no, that was quite funny. According to Ri, Muggle art is undervalued – she'd get on very well with Dad." 

"_Enough, no more,_

_ 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before_ I can hear every word you're saying, you know that? And I am not deranged. Muggle literature is just interesting. So there." 

"We never thought you were deranged, your holiness, just eccentric. What's wrong with Celestina Warbeck, and her cronies?" Ria entered the room. 

"Shakespeare," she began, with dignity, "was a genius. Celestina Warbeck, and her like, are tarts of little talent, and even less beauty." 

"Ria!" Charlie was scandalised. "You're talking about the best group to have graced the Wizard Wireless Network for years!" 

"That, Charlie, sweetie, is my point. Celestina Warbeck versus the Beatles – there just isn't any comparison. _He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody. Doesn't have a point of view, knows not where he's going to, isn't he a bit like you and me? Nowhere man, please listen, you don't know what you're missing, nowhere man, the world is at your command_" Ria left the room, singing softly to herself. Charlie watched her leave, smiling to himself. 

"It could be worse," he informed Bill, "at least she _can_ sing!" 

"The girl's out of her mind!" Bill replied. 

"No," Charlie said, seriously, "she's not. But she has issues to deal with, and she hasn't dealt with them yet. Believe me, Bill, after last week, I don't care if Ri starts pretending she's dancing to Cliff Richard on the moon, as long as she's happy while she's doing it." 

"Who's Cliff Richard?" Bill asked, innocently. Charlie sighed, what with Bill and Ariadne, it was going to be a long week! 

"_Help! I need somebody, Help, not just anybody, Help, you know I need someone, Help!_

_When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way, And now these days are gone I'm not so self assured, Now I find, I've changed my mind, I've opened up the door"_ Bill's singing filled the flat. Charlie looked at Ria, and raised an eyebrow. 

"Corrupting my brother, your holiness?" 

"Not at all. I just introduced him to some rather choice works by the Beatles," Ria replied, smiling. "It seems I've converted him." 

"The sad thing is, I think you have," Charlie admitted. 

"Two Weasleys down, seven to go," Ria grinned. 

"What do you mean, two down? I'll have you know that I still prefer Celestina Warbeck," Charlie complained. 

"No, Charlie, dear, you prefer Celestina's blonde hair and figure. That's different. And I was actually referring to Bill and your dad. He's into all things Muggle, is he not?" 

"Oh. Okay then," Charlie had no witty come back for that. 

"And you know you like my music better really," Ria teased. "Don't think I didn't hear you that time that Jess abandoned you for some other guy. I seem to recall, _I'll survive with a little help from my friends_ creeping into the sound system." 

"I thought it was particularly fitting," Charlie told her. "Incidentally Ri, that sound system was a stroke of genius." 

"One of the perks of living in Romania, my dear Mr Weasley, is that there are far fewer Muggle baiting laws, and enchanting a sound system to work without electricity isn't among them." 

"A fact that you are only too happy to exploit, Lady Rutherford," 

"That's my aunt, Charlie. She also happens to be dead. So, as when Uncle Adam dies, it will pass to young Giles' wife, if he ever gets one, it will pass right over my branch of Rutherfords. It would have done anyway – what with Mums and Dad having only girls." 

"Nice change of subject there. I still want to know how you tinkered with that," Charlie nodded towards the tape deck, "so that you could play your precious Beatles." 

"Well, then want will have to be your master, 'cause I'm not telling you." 

"Thanks Ri," Charlie said wryly. 

"Ask your father, I'm sure he'd be only too happy to oblige," Ria retorted. At that point, Bill entered the room. 

"I thought Ria singing in the shower was bad," Charlie complained, "then you took it up, and I'm starting to wonder if I've gone completely mad!" 

"I think," Bill began, "that at time like this the best strategy is-" 

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," Ria finished. 

_That's the end of Part II. I apologise for the major stint of the Beatles in this – I wrote the whole part listening to them. Part III is on the way – it just needs some final fine-tuning. In other words, expect it in a couple of months.__J__ Just kidding. _

____

_Well, I couldn't leave off without saying 'merci beaucoup' to all you lovely people, could I? I'll admit that I pilchered the idea from Andy, but hey, I'm shameless, and anyway the Thanks section always amuses me more than the actual story._

___Firstly, I have to grovel at the feet of those people who were darling enough to read this through before it made it as far as being published:_

___**Andy/Sirius** – Thanks, chum. You're an angel, and I'll buy you some polish for your halo later. I'd tell you I love you, but a) I'm not in the habit of professing undying affection to strange men, and b) that's your forte. Oh, and Andy? Ria's obsession with the Beatles does not make she and I one and the same you know. Although, I wouldn't mind living with someone who went by the name of Weasley __J__. _

_**Alyssi/Mara** – I know you're probably on a never-ending search for a story to read as we speak, but thank you. Your comments never fail to make me smile, and your encouragement is always appreciated. __ I __- that's a gold star, well, it should be if ff.net will allow the symbol to work. __J___

_**Jen** – Commendations for being the only person I know who only has one name, and no pseudonym! Again, thanks for actually wanting to read this – people, go and read Jen's story 'What to Expect When A Wizard Expecting', it's absolutely hilarious. Now, Andy's an angel, Alyssi got a gold star, so I don't know what to give you ***ponders*** I wanted to add a picture of a trophy, but there wasn't one in the icons section ***scowls***. Thanks Jen, just imagine a trophy right here._

___**Arabella**: You're amazing! Thanks so much for everything that you do. Part III is very Weasley orientated, which should please you somewhat! As always, the interesting comments are much appreciated, making the editing process as much fun as the actual writing!_

__

_Now, for the rest of you - the response was greater than I had anticipated (ie, I anticipated nothing). I was quite chuffed with that actually, as this is about Charlie. Why does everyone neglect the Weasley men? I don't know, but this was inspired by the marvellous W.A.I.L-ing folk at Sugarquill, so I suppose credit for my creative process should actually go to them. Oh well!****_

_****_

_**Aira** Thanks for the nice constructive nature of your review (that's what I like to see – constructive criticism). I admit that Ria does sometimes come across as flawless, but I can assure you that she isn't. And this part is from Charlie's PoV, so hopefully that will solve that problem – I do intend to change PoV's a lot. The four students out of bounds are Draco, Neville, Harry and Hermione – Ron is in the infirmary (I checked). As for the plot line, perhaps I should have made it clear that this is a series – I did leave hints, or I thought I did – so, hopefully everything should be more interesting eventually. I hope that I address all of your concerns – I've edited part one, so hopefully it will be easier to understand. Thanks for reviewing._

_**Sirius** Again. But thanks for the review, and quite right, reciprocity is not required. Wonderful writing ability? *snorts* This from the guy who insists I can't write romance. _

_**Puzzler** Oh, I'm writing okay. Thanks for the review – it was very encouraging._

_**The Hermione Granger Fan Club** Thanks for putting this on your favourites list. I have to admit that the main reason this is Charlie-centric is because I started it after it was commented on at SQ that there were very few Charlie fics. I return your salute, by the way. And I can think of more superior writers than I. But thanks for the review, it made me very happy!_

_**Gumdrop** Thank you! Thank you! The good luck? I needed it! And here's the next part. I've finished my exams, so from now on there *shouldn't* be any delays._

_**Anne** You're right – it has been far too long since I had time to sit down and be creative. I blame school, actually. It sapped away most of my creative vibes. I've really been run off of my feet recently, hence the long delay between Part I and this. Ria and Gemma – you're the only person to pick up on that. All I can say is, it will be revealed eventually! As for relationships, well, that's down to Ria and Charlie __J__ Thanks for the review._

_**Arabella** Thank you for the compliments. I might just inundate you with a stand alone related fic all about Molly and Arthur's Christmas visit to Charlie – I only realised that after I'd published Part I. _

_**Firebolt/Paula**_ _Thanks for the review. You plan your writing? I envy you that, I simply can't do it! And I've kept you all waiting for ages for Part II – I'm sorry!_

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_ With the ff.net situation as it is right now, the only way you're likely to know that I've updated is by checking my profile, which would be highly boring for you, and therefore, I'm not going to ask you to do it. However, in the interest of making it easier for you to find this when it is updated, if you leave a note in your review, I'll e-mail you when I update, thus saving a lot of hunting and time. Obviously, for this to happen, you'll need to leave your e-mail address in the review. If you don't want to do that, then you can e-mail me at _[hallieu@hotmail.com][1]_ and I'll see about contacting you from there. _

_Thanks to all those of you that have reviewed, and the rest of you – even if you just write 'gr8' in the little box below, you'll be truly stellar. _

__

_Right, now, places to go, people to see!_

__

_Hallie_

   [1]: mailto:hallieu@hotmail.com



	3. Chapter 3 - Love is in the air

Spiritus aduro ****

Spiritus aduro

Part III

"Beat back those Bludgers, Boys

And chuck that Quaffle here

While we're a playing, boys

We'll hope the Snitch appears!'

Bill regarded Ria thoughtfully, as she sang Puddlemere United's anthem to herself, softly. Somehow, she hadn't struck him as a Quidditch type. Especially not a Puddlemere United Quidditch type.

"You support Puddlemere?" he asked, curiously.

"No, Bill, I support the Holyhead Harpies. I'm just singing the Puddlemere anthem because I like it! What do you think?" Ria's sarcasm was hard to miss.

"Easy tiger! I was only asking!" Bill raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm taking it you play Quidditch, then?"

"You're really sharp today," Ria smirked at him. "Yes, I do play Quidditch. When I have time, that is."

"What position?"

"Seeker, actually. It's a never-ending source of mystery that the only two Seekers on the reserve live in the same house. Charlie's better than me, though - but don't let him know I said that. I'm not so very much worse than him that I can't give him a run for his money."

"Do you have tournaments, then?"

"Sometimes - it depends what's going on in the reserve as much as anything else. In the middle of mating season, we're lucky if we have time to eat and sleep, let alone play Quidditch. You're lucky, actually, the Swedish Short-Snouts mate at the end of the season, and the last of those was in... I'd say marital bliss, but Short-Snouts aren't renowned for their ability to stick around - still, you know what I mean."

"I can guess," Bill said, dryly. He looked at the girl in front of him - her dark hair framed her face, and her eyes danced happily. _She's actually very pretty_, he thought to himself. _Whoa! Where did that come from? _"So, you play when you have time to, then."

"Pretty much, yes. Generally we have a mini tournament after the last mating - there's just about enough time for us to get a few games in before the dragons start laying, and once they've laid their eggs, we have to be on constant watch until the eggs hatch."

"Why?" Bill was genuinely curious. In itself, this surprised him. Charlie had been in Romania for five years, and Bill had never been particularly interested in his work, perhaps because he rarely came across dragons in the deserts of Egypt. But Ria's obvious passion for her work was infectious.

"Why do we have to keep an eye on them once they've laid their eggs?" Bill nodded. "Well, the dragons aren't the only magical creatures in the reserve, and Nogtails seem to like dragon's eggs if they can't suckle on pigs. They're lucky that they're so fast though, or the dragon would have roast Nogtail for tea."

"Nogtails are a problem then?" Bill found this rather hard to believe - even he knew that Nogtails lived off of sows on farms.

"Yes, Nogtails are a problem," came Charlie's voice. "Most of Romania is farmland, and most wizarding Romanians keep white dogs in an effort to keep the Nogtail population on the farms minimal - Romania isn't particularly rich, and the farms are most Romanians source of income. It's the responsibility of Romanian wizards to ensure that Muggle farmers aren't affected by Nogtails. The problem is, that leaves the wilder parts of Romania - like here - overrun with them. And they _do_ have a thing for dragon's eggs."

"Yeah, Ria said," Bill replied.

"Oooh - Ria said, did she?" Charlie smirked. "What's going on here then?"

"Shut up, Weasley," Ria told him, good-naturedly. 

"I would, your holiness, but I came to tell you that we're having a Quidditch match this afternoon. Your lot can play mine, and yes, I know that Jordan is hospitalised, but Bill can fill in for him, if that's okay with you?"

"If Bill's happy with it, then so am I," Ria replied. "I'm taking it that this isn't part of the tournament though – Jordan won't be impressed if we start without him."

"He shouldn't get himself eaten then, should he?" Charlie smirked. "You're in luck, this is just a preamble. We can't start the tournament until you, me, Liam and Jack get together to discuss times etceteras."

"Well, I'm up for a game, assuming my lovely team can get their act together for long enough to make it to the pitch. When did you say you want to play?"

"I said this afternoon. About five-ish."

"That's this evening," Ria replied. "I suppose we can manage that. Unless I tell you otherwise, the match is at five thirty this evening."

"Yes, ma'am!" Charlie saluted, cheekily. "I'd better dash, actually. Kellie said I could go and help her with the Hippogriffs, as Nigel says that only one of us needs to be on dragon duty today. If I'm lucky, I might get a ride."

"I pity Kellie," Ria smiled. "Have fun, and do try not to get your eyes poked out! See you later!"

"See you!" Charlie left them to it. Once he had left, Ria turned to Bill, smiling apologetically.

"I'm going to have to love you and leave you too," she told him. "I need to catch up with my team, and I have absolutely no idea about where to find most of them. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," Bill smiled. "I'll take the opportunity to write to various family members. I owe Mum her weekly low-down, and then Ron and Ginny both owled me recently, so I suppose I should write to them too."

"I feel really bad about leaving you," Ria said, "you're a guest after all; it's really not on to abandon you. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Ria, what could possibly happen to me? I break curses for a living, I think I'm fully equipped when it comes to protecting myself. Go and rally your Quidditch team!"

"_Our_ Quidditch team," Ria corrected him, smiling. 

"Okay, our Quidditch team. Now, off you go, and leave me to write in peace!" Bill grinned at her.

"Yes, Dad. I should be back by four at the latest. Bye!" 

On his arrival in Romania, Bill had been offered a choice of Ria's bedroom, or Charlie's. Ria's room was tidier, and generally more pleasant, even if it wasn't terribly masculine. However, Bill knew that if he slept in her room then she would sleep on the sofa. So he chose to sleep in the same room as his brother, in spite of the chaotic mess that Charlie seemed to view as perfectly normal. Charlie would have let his brother have the room to himself - Bill knew that. But, for fifteen years the two of them had shared a bedroom. One weekend was scarcely going to kill them. 

Bill looked at his surroundings. Charlie had never tried to suggest that he was a tidy person; in fact, he was quite the opposite. The floor was covered with robes that had been worn and not placed in the laundry bin, and the desk was littered with half written reports. The only reason the bed was made was because Bill had slept in it. Bill was reminded of the state of Charlie's side of their shared room when they had both lived at the Burrow. Bill had always been relatively tidy, and his brother's mess had driven him mad. It was the only bone of contention between the two of them. 

Bill rummaged through the things that he had brought with him, and found some parchment, a quill, and the letter from his mother.

'_Dear Bill,_

If you are visiting Charlie, do you think you could remind him to write to me more frequently? In the past month I have received the grand total of two letters, and neither of those tell me much about his situation. I have never objected to the two of you living so far away from home, although, of course, I'd be happier if both of you were in Britain. However, for my peace of mind, I do like to hear from you frequently. Please be careful when you travel, I don't want to receive any owls about you getting splinched because you forgot that you can't Apparate through borders. Make sure you take frequent rests, as well. Your father informs me that Apparating long distances is very tiring, and I don't want you to be ill. Be sure to eat well and frequently, but don't overdo it – travelling with a full stomach can make you very ill, according to the leaflet from St Mungo's.

Now, Bill, dear. I don't want to seem pushy, but isn't it about time you got yourself a girlfriend? By the time I was your age, I was married and had a child. Obviously, I don't want you to go out and get a child, but you could make an effort. Maybe Charlie knows of someone you could see? Although he's as bad as you – never a word about romance! He never tells me about much, other than his dragons, of course.

Have fun in Romania, dear, and be sure to write soon. I know you're busy, but I'm still not totally happy about you being so far away from home. 

All my love

Mum

P.S. Be sure to reply to Ginny's letter – she needs your help with some schoolwork. It's not due in for a while, though.'

Bill smiled as he read his mother's letter, a mixture of advice, concern and affection. She'd never tire of trying to marry him off, he realised that. According to Charlie, she tried to chivvy him on as well. But she never forced them to do anything. All in all, as far as mothers went, Molly Weasley was excellent. The best, in Bill's opinion. He dipped his quill in ink, and began to work on an answer. Once he finished writing to his mother, he looked at the letter from Ginny. It was typical of his sister, full of questions and chattily informative about her life. She needed to know about the types of curses on Egyptian pyramids for her History homework, she said, and did he know that the Pyramids had all sorts of symbolic importance? Ginny attended the West Counties School of Primary Wizarding Education, the same school that her brother's had attended prior to their Hogwarts education. The primary school taught almost no practical magic, and there was a lot of emphasis on so-called 'Muggle' lessons such as Arithmatic and English, but the curriculum was tailored so that it was significant to wizards rather than Muggles. 

Eventually, after a couple of hours of solid writing, he had replied to all of his correspondence, and had gained a case of writer's cramp. Still, it was one less thing for him to do when he went back to Egypt, and with the size of his workload, that was something to be thankful for.

"Honey, I'm home!" It was just gone four o'clock when Ria returned, laughingly impersonating the type of wife that was typical of radio plays on the WWN.

"Did you get everything sorted?" Bill asked.

"Did I ever?" Ria smiled. "Yes, everyone's up for a game. I also visited Jordan in hospital, and he looked ready to kill me when I told him we were playing without him. I promised that we'd gatecrash the hospital this evening, and give him a full rundown of what went on, and that just about satisfied him. I'm not sure what Stella Woodhouse will say about everything though," she smiled, then caught Bill's puzzled look. "Jordan is one of my Beaters – the one that you're playing for. Stella is a nurse at the hospital; she's about the same age as you, actually. We're friends, but I don't know that she'll be overly impressed when Charlie and I, and our teams party in Jordan's wing!" Ria laughed, and Bill smiled.

"So, is the hospital here large then?" he asked, suddenly concerned. The very fact that they had a hospital rather than a hospital wing should be quite worrying, now he came to think of it.

"Not on the same scale as St Mungo's, no, but it is quite large. But then, so's the reserve. A few thousand acres is no hamlet. You've only seen the British part of the reserve – there are a few hundred other settlements around, and the hospital caters to all of them. Of course, we do work with the other people – Eloise is on my Quidditch team and she's French – but as a general rule, we work in national groups. Of course, overall, we're all working together. The great high ups from each country have a committee where they decide what the likes of Charlie and I will do, but we rarely come into contact with the other people. Anyway, the hospital is pretty big. There are about forty doctors and one hundred nurses there."

"So, how many people work on the reserve then?"

"Let me think. Twenty to thirty from each country, I believe. There are thirty-one Brits here, but I think we're one of the larger groups. Anyway, there are probably a hundred nations represented around here, so all in all, lets say about three thousand, give or take. When you look at it that way, the hospital is actually _very_ small."

"The reserve's bigger than I thought," Bill admitted. "And Romania isn't exactly huge."

"That's true. But then, three thousand as a community isn't really all that big. I can tell you that the hospital always has about ten inmates. Working with dragons isn't exactly the safest of jobs, I'd be the first to admit that."

"How many times have you been there?"

"In the three years I've been here, about five. But twice was because I was bitten by a Norwegian Ridgeback, and I'm _very_ allergic to their venom. Of course, everyone should take some type of antidote if they get bitten, because the venom is supposed to kill you. Unfortunately, I need a little more than the antidote to keep me alive," Ria smiled, ruefully. "Listen to me! Here I am, rabbiting on about something that you probably couldn't care less about!"

"I don't know," Bill mused, "its actually quite interesting. I'll admit that I've never really thought of the reserve as being a community before, but I suppose it must be."

"Of course. There are loads of canteens around, and a couple of restaurants for people like me who can't cook, and unfortunately, don't have conveniently situated Charlies to help them out. The Americans even have a hotel where people visiting their people can stay. Of course, it's actually practical for them, they have a presence of about two hundred people, which is almost twice average, and they need the hotel. Most countries just have hostels, and if you have visitors, well, that's your problem."

"I didn't realise this was a hostel!" Bill looked surprised.

"It isn't. Charlie and I don't actually live in the reserve; we're a couple of kilometres away from the boundary here. We live in a village. This flat is actually the bottom storey of a house. The top storey is a flat exactly like ours – Esterina and Juan live there with their family. Charlie and I are lucky. Not only do we live somewhere that is _ours_, but we also live in a wizarding community. The only problem is, they are all Romanian Catholics, and they think Charlie and I are living in sin. Consequently, we're the outcasts of society," Ria chuckled. "Ester's the only local that actually talks to us. She's a lovely lady."

"And are you?" Bill asked, wickedly.

"Am I what?" Ria asked, confused.

"Are you living in sin with my brother?" Ria looked at him, scathingly.

"Of course I am. I'm six months pregnant with our first child, didn't he tell you?" Ria's eyes were wide with feigned disbelief. "What do you think?!"

"Only asking," Bill replied.

"Asking what?" Charlie asked.

"If you and Ri are living in sin, of course," Bill told him, smirking. Charlie rolled his eyes. "Ria says she's six months pregnant with your first kid. You'd better hurry up and marry her, or Mum will go ape!"

"Of course. The wedding's set for next Thursday. Your holiness, we're calling it Felix or Jayne, okay?"

"No. We're calling it Rose after my mum, or Arthur, after your dad."

"No child of mine is being called Arthur," Charlie replied.

"Get used to it, chummy. I carry the child for nine months, I have the pain of labour, I get to choose the name."

"Hey, I had a hand in this too, you know!"

"Charlie, I'm not marrying you if you don't agree to calling her Rose. Or him Arthur. She can be Rose Kathryn Jayne, if you like, and he can be Arthur Felix. But no son of mine is being called Felix straight off, so lump it."

"No I will not!" Charlie shouted. "It's my child, I think I deserve a say!"

"Um, is this a good time to mention that this child is completely fictional?" Bill asked.

"NO!!!" Ria and Charlie shouted in unison.

"What's wrong with Felix?" Charlie demanded.

"Nothing. But it doesn't honour your father," Ria replied.

"Ri, you upper class prat, that's Bill's privilege as eldest son," Charlie told her. "If we're getting on to the subject of families, why not call it Alex, after your dad. Or Molly, after my mum."

"Because you honour the father's father and the mother's mother," Ria replied, calmly. "How do you think I ended up with a name like Ariande Olivia?"

"Surely by the time they got to you your parents had used up all the family names," Charlie retorted.

"No. Ariadne is after my great-great-grandmother, and Olivia is the last of my mother's many middle names."

"Well fine, working on that basis, if it's a girl, you should call her Olivia. And if it's a boy, we'll call it John."

"The logic behind this is…?"

"Would the two of you stop arguing about a non-existent baby!!!!" Bill demanded. 

"Well, there's no need to shout!" Ria replied. 

"Right," Bill chose to ignore Ria. "Charlie, what did you come here for?"

"I came here because I live here," Charlie replied.

"No, you don't say," Ria inserted, dryly.

"And to get ready for the Quidditch match. Which I am assuming is on, as her holiness hasn't told me anything to the contrary."

"Yes, the Quidditch match is on, and we'd better get a move on, as it starts in half an hour," Bill replied.

"Is that all?" Ria shrieked. "But I need to trim up my broomstick!"

It had been a long time since Bill had played Quidditch - conditions in Egypt leant towards other sports - but when he sat on his broom it was like he'd played only yesterday. Quidditch had always been a favourite sport for the Weasleys, as soon as Ron was old enough to sit on a broom they would play three against three, with Ginny umpiring. Then, there came the day that Ginny objected to her position as family referee, and demanded that they allow her to play. Through a combination of charm and her mother's ferociousness, Ginny cajoled Bill into swapping. Nowadays, family Quidditch matches were few and far between - he and Charlie rarely went home at the same time - but even so, the love of the sport was still prevalent.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" Ria yelled towards their team. There was silence almost immediately, and Bill marvelled at the commanding presence of the woman beside him. "As you know, today _isn't_ a tournament match - they start on Monday. Today's match was organised by myself and Charlie Weasley," she paused as the wolf whistles broke out, "primarily as a way for us to get all warmed up and used to playing together, and also so that we could do something interesting with Weasley's brother. You may or may not know that Jordan is currently residing in the Hospital with an Opaleye bite. He assures me that he'll be back in play by Monday, but that leaves us a Beater opening, and Bill here has agreed to fill the void." She turned to Bill. "Bill, meet our Chasers, Sam Kingston, my boss, if you like, Fiona Shaw, she works in the Nursery, Joshua Hintown, he works with Charlie, but apparently he's more taken by my stunning good looks than Charlie's. Harrison Payne is our Keeper, and a darn good one too - Harrison works with Sam and I most of the time. Your fellow Beater is Penny George, and I'm the Seeker and Captain." 

The team greeted Bill raucously, and Ria ran through a few last minute tips before the game began. 

"...And Rachel Peat is commentating, so I'd advise you not to listen if you don't want to end up in hysterics. I think that's it. Good luck, chaps." They took their places.

"And they're off. Charlie Weasley's team may have the edge in terms of skill, but Ri's going to give him a run for his money, aren't you Ri? Kimberly Christon in possession - she's aiming for the goal and..._saved_! Saved by Keeper Harrison Payne. And Kingston has possession - she passes to Josh Hintown, and Ria's Chasers move into Hawkshead Attacking Formation. They head for the goal - Hintown shoots.... and he scores - ten-nil to Ri's team!" And so it went on. And on and on and on. And on. Eventually, after three hours of playing, Charlie caught the Snitch, leaving the score at five hundred and eighty to Charlie's team, and five hundred and forty to Ria's.

The two teams were clearly nowhere near as antagonistic towards each other as the Hogwarts house teams were. Bill said as much to Kevin Sitol, one of Charlie's Chasers.

"There's no point in getting all het up," Kevin explained. "Sure, we play to win - who doesn't? But its a bit pointless in getting all vicious towards Ri and co when she and Charlie are about as chummy as you can get - without ending up in bed together, that is." Bill raised his eyebrows at the tall American.

"I don't think either Charlie or Ri would be all to happy with that comment," he pointed out. "They maintain it's purely platonic." It was one thing for him to cast insinuations, quite another for other people.

"They've been maintaining that it's purely platonic for two years now," Kevin informed him, "and as far as I know, they're telling the truth. What they don't mention is that secretly they're hopelessly in love with each other."

"Something that both of them deny vehemently, might I add," Bill smiled. "Still, you never know - perhaps they're telling the truth. Charlie's right - it is possible to be 'just friends', and Ria certainly doesn't seem keen on romance."

"Tried your cards, have you?" Kevin grinned.

"According to Charlie boy, yes. But no, I haven't."

"Do you want to?" Kevin demanded.

"Well, yeah - I mean, who wouldn't - the girl's a miracle - she's pretty, smart, funny, and great to be with.... the perfect combination."

"Perfect... Well, if nothing else, she'll be flattered," Kevin told him. "Good luck, mate. You seem like a nice enough guy, and its about time that Ria got hooked up with someone - she's been single for far too long."

"Yes, but Charlie..."

"Maintains that they're just friends. Which means you can do what you like. Besides which, all's fair in love and war. But ask him, if you feel that strongly."

"Ask who what?" Charlie joined them at that point.

"Bill wants to know if you're planning on making a move on Ria any time soon?" Kevin asked, smirking at Bill.

"Not that I know of - why, are you planning on getting all romantic, brother dear?" Charlie smirked too.

"Maybe," Bill wasn't going to tell Charlie anything - if he knew of Bill's intentions then he'd tease him mercilessly. "Are you sure you're not interested, Charlie?"

"Of course," Charlie smiled at his brother, but then his eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Just be careful, okay."

"Careful of what?"

"Ria," It was clear from his tone that Charlie was serious. "I don't know the particulars, but somewhere along the line, she's been hurt. Promise me you won't treat her like a toy. It's not fair on her and it's not fair on you."

"Hey!" Bill exclaimed. "I resent that!" 

"You forget, William, that I know you almost as well as I know myself. And I know for a fact that you're someone who plays the field. So tread carefully where Ri's concerned. Please."

"You sound like the poor girl's father!" Bill smiled at his brother.

"It's the overprotective big brother genes working. I care about Ria - she's my family - in a weird non-related, non-romantic kind of way. You can't talk, anyway - you're just as bad! Look at the way you used to look out for Gin!"

"Deed zumvun zay gin?" Eloise Therese joined them. "I vould like ze large vun avec tonic, s'il vous plait." Bill looked at her, as Charlie laughed.

"Not gin as in alcohol gin," he explained. "Gin short for Ginny - our little sister, El!"

"Ta soeur, oui, je comprends ça. Mais je veux l'alcohol!"

"El, stick to the Butterbeer!" Ria smiled at the petite French woman. "Just because you won, it doesn't mean you can get completely plastered. Remember you have to work tomorrow."

"You eees no fun, Ri. You lost, mon ami. C'est la vie. But ve mus' zelebrate!"

"You do realise that Bill now thinks that you're a drunk, don't you El?" Kevin smirked at his teammate. "Come on, let's go and see what we can find. You're right - first match of the season, and we won. We _should_ celebrate!"

"They're not going to let that drop, are they?" Ria laughed at their retreating backs. "Is it a good time to mention that we would have thrashed you, if you hadn't caught the Snitch."

"Ah, but I did catch the Snitch, your holiness, and unfortunately, you didn't." Charlie smirked at Ria. "We won fair and square, so stop complaining."

"Come on Chas, it's got to hurt, knowing that we were beating you soundly."

"But, Ria hon, we won. So the point is irrelevant."

"Or not. But we won't go into that now – these people are far too settled here, and I promised Jordan that we'd visit him in hospital. I think everyone's made it here now."

"Just about. What is it with your team and getting hurt just before matches? Last year they had to play without a Seeker and Captain thanks to your Ridgeback episode."

"How was I supposed to know that I was going to get bitten?" Ria demanded. "Not that it really matters. I'd better get the hordes moving, or Jordan really will kill me."

It was the early hours of morning when Bill, Charlie and Ria returned home, all the merrier for a couple of drinks. 

"Home sweet home," Ria sighed happily, as she sunk into a chair. "Why is everything so much nicer at this time of night?"

"This time of morning, actually," Charlie corrected her, lazily.

"Whatever. And you should be in bed, anyway," Ria replied.

"Yes, Mum," Charlie smiled at her. "Night, your holiness. Sweet dreams. Coming Bill?"

"In a minute," Bill replied. Charlie winked at him. 

"Okay then. Well, don't be surprised if I'm dead to the world when you come in, and do try not to walk all over my face!" Charlie was sleeping on the floor so that Bill could use the bed.

"As if I would," Bill responded. When Charlie had gone, he turned to Ria. "Night Ri. Thanks for this evening."

"No problem," Ria stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek in the same way she did Charlie every night, but Bill turned round to face her, and their lips met. Bill could feel Ria tense up against him, but as the kiss wore on, she began to relax. Finally they broke apart, and she looked up at him.

"What," she demanded, "was that?"

"Goodnight kiss?" he suggested, grinning in spite of himself.

"A goodnight kiss?!" Ria looked at him incredulously. "I'd really hate to be your sister, if _that _was a goodnight kiss! And don't you think, if I wanted a 'goodnight kiss', I would have asked for one?"

"You did," Bill pointed out. "You were going to kiss me, anyway."

"Yes, but not like _that_," Ria pointed out.

"If you didn't like it that much, then why did you kiss me back?" Bill demanded. He had a valid point too. 

"I didn't say I didn't _like_ it," Ria replied, grinning mischievously. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"You're a tease, Ariadne Rutherford," Bill returned her grin. "So, does this mean you like me too?"

"What do you mean 'too'?" Ria demanded, and Bill realised that behind the act, there was fear in her eyes.

"Dearie, I'm not it the habit of kissing everyone like that," Bill explained.

"I like you, all right," Ria told him, turning her back to him. "But I don't want to get involved romantically with anyone. Not you, not Charlie, not anyone."

"Why?" Bill asked. "Why are you so scared of letting go?"

"Letting go of what?"

"Ria, I'm not stupid. No one kisses like that if there isn't attraction."

"Look, I don't want to discuss this," Ria said, shortly. "It's late, and I'm tired. Can I go to bed now, please?"

"No," Bill replied, calmly.

"What?!" Ria was incredulous.

"You heard me. I want to know what it is that you're scared of."

"Is that any of your business?"

"I'm making it my business."

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" Ria demanded, desperately.

"All of it," Bill replied. "It's not a word in my vocabulary. Now, tell me what your problem is."

"What my problem is? Um, hello,I'm not the one who has a problem here!"

"Yes you are. And keep it down, you'll wake Charlie up."

"No I won't. He sleeps like the dead."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes he does. I'm telling you, you could have a full out party in here at midnight, and Charlie would sleep through it. Believe me, I've done it."

"He's a light sleeper though," Bill was confused.

"Yes, but there's a Silencing Charm on our Living Room," Ria explained, smirking. "Its actually very complicated – outside sound can get in, but inside sound can't get out."

"Fascinating though this is, you still haven't told me why you have a problem committing to a relationship."

"Lets just say that I have issues, and leave it at that, shall we? Can I go to bed now?"

"Why don't you talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener – part of the big brother thing."

"Why should I talk to you? I've known Charlie for what seems like forever, and he doesn't know. I've known you for two days, and not only do you make a move on me, but you calmly demand that I tell you my whole life!"

"This really is a sore point for you, isn't it?" Ria nodded. "Listen, I'm no psychiatrist, but I do know that talking is always a good way to go. As my mother used to say, a problem shared is a problem halved. And I'm not letting you go to bed until you tell me what your problem is."

"Fine," Ria gave in, to Bill's delight. He had a reputation as being ladies' man, but in fact, people he cared about, he cared about deeply. He might only have known Ria for a couple of days, but it was obvious to him that she was a special person, and it pained him to think that her past was so bad that it haunted her still.

Ria's story was a long one, and tragic. Bill listened patiently to what she had to say, and reflected that life could be very cruel sometimes. He was offering his support to Ria when he realised that she could hear none of it. She was fast asleep, her head on his shoulder. He decided that he couldn't really move. If he did so, then he'd wake her, something that he wasn't very keen on. Sighing, he resigned himself to the inevitable.

"RIA?!? BILL?!?" Charlie's incredulous shout was enough to wake the dead, and it woke Bill. Ria however, slept on.

"Charlie?" Bill answered, mildly. 

"_What_ are you _doing_?" Charlie demanded, looking rather shocked.

"What?" 

"Bloody hell!" Charlie said. "Look at yourself. You've only known her for two days, and your sleeping with her already."

"What?"

"Look at yourself, man!" Bill did as he was bidden, and realised that somehow, he and Ria had ended up in a rather compromising position. He sighed. This was going to take some explaining away.

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Bet you didn't see that coming! *****smirks* Yes, I'm strange, what can I say? It's a combination of all-Anglican (new phrase that I've coined – the English equivalent of All-American) madness and hayfever. I'm telling you, pollen does weird things to your brain.

Now, happy thank you note (my brother cut the grass, I'm on a pollen high, what can I say?)

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Andy/Sirius: Ria is not like me. I am not sarcastic. And (unfortunately) I didn't spend a night in the arms of a fictional redhead. Obviously, I'd go for Ron, personally, Bill's too old for me. Having said that, Charlie is growing on me. You should be proud of me – I wrote romance (albeit not much of it. More to come though.) Thanks for looking at *coughmassacreingcough* this for me, dearie. And no, you may not write the lovey-dovey scenes. Once I get over the writers block, they're the most fun! Thanks, chummie.

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Arabella: As always, thank you! Everyone, read After the End, a post-Hogwarts novel by Arabella and Zsenya (here their pseudonym is Sugar Quill). Its marvellent (a combination of marvellous and excellent). You should like this one – lots of nice Weasley men. No leather loincloths though – what a shame!

And the rest of you:

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Anne: Thanks for reviewing again! I love the Beatles, I love Shakespeare, I love Charlie. I thought I may as well put the whole lot together. As for Bill - well, I'd love to know what you think of this bit. 

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Thing1: LoL It would seem that there are lots of closet Beatles fans out there. Charlie and Ron are my favourite Weasleys. And Ria - I don't want her to be Mary-Sueish, but she's amazingly fun to write. All her own person.

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Adrea/Mara/Alyssi: Thanks for all the compliments. LoL. I'm glad you had fun in France.

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Silver lightning: Thanks for reviewing. I do have a tendency to ramble on, yes.

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Gumdrop: Bill is very prominent in this, so that should have dealt with it. 

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Solveig Felton: Timeline marking. That's something I'm trying to work out - I don't really want to use dates, per se, and I'm not sure about *'s. With regard to Sir - it works both ways. He could be Sir Adam, by the same token, he could be Sir Rutherford. Although, I think it tends to be Sir Adam and Lady whatever. Descriptions of where they live - I've got up to Chapter 4 written, but I will try to add more scenery in Ch 5 onwards. Thanks for taking the time to review.

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Puzzler: Thanks for reviewing, and here's your next installment. J 

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	4. Chapter 4 - Explanations

Spiritus aduro ****

Spiritus aduro

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At last, I have got round to uploading this - I apologise profusely for the delay. Fanfiction.net died, which was inconvenient, and I didn't want to upload until it was stable again. Thanks to Arabella for beta-reading this for me. In this chapter… The twisted Weasley/Ria triangle gets more twisted, new people arrive, and Charlie jumps to conclusions.

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Part IV

Charlie couldn't believe what he saw! Bill and Ria - together. And by the looks of things, they'd been like that all night! Heaven only knew what his mother would say if she found out about this.

"This isn't what it looks like," Bill said, hastily.

"Oooh, smart!" Charlie wasn't in the mood for placation. Walking in on his brother and best friend doing…well, he wasn't actually sure what they had been doing, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, either, hadn't exactly made his day. "You know, most people get a room," he pointed out, sarcastically.

"Nice to know how much you think of me," Bill retorted. "For your information, I've done nothing to be ashamed of."

"It looks like it, I'm sure," Charlie replied. "It seems that we have different standards for acceptable behaviour."

"What's up with you?" Bill demanded.

"Um, I get up in the morning to find my brother and my best friend in some kind of orgy, what do you think is the matter with me?"

"Orgy? Charlie, what's the matter? And its not like you can talk, anyway – you're as much of a lady-killer as the rest of us!"

"Yes, but I've never slept with my brother's best friend, have I?"

"Neither have I," Bill said, in exasperation. Charlie glared pointedly at Ria's peacefully sleeping form.

"She fell asleep on me at two o'clock this morning. If I moved I would have woken her up. So I slept here too. Stop jumping to conclusions, man! It's not like you, and it's not fair."

"So, you didn't _do_ anything?" Charlie asked, doubtfully. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, he did. The problem was, he cared about Ria in the same way he cared about Ginny, and he didn't want to see her hurt. He especially didn't want to see her hurt by his brother, because he'd end up stuck in the middle, a position he quite rightly found daunting.

"No, we didn't do anything. It doesn't say much for your faith in Ria and me that you thought we had, actually," Charlie realised that he had probably overstepped the mark with Bill. As a general rule, his elder brother was perfectly amiable and great fun to be with. But, like all of the Weasleys, Bill had a temper, and once it was roused, you didn't want to be near him. And it looked suspiciously like his temper was roused good and proper.

"I'm sorry," Charlie hastened to smooth ruffled feathers. "Its not that I don't trust the two of you, it's just…"

"You don't trust us," Bill finished tartly.

"No!" Charlie protested vehemently. "I just don't want to see either of you hurt. And what would you think, if you found Ria and I in the same situation?"

"I'd think good for the two of you, actually. Not that its relevant," Bill smiled, and Charlie heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that he was off the hook. "Out of interest, how could anything have happened between us when both of us are fully clothed?"

"Good point," Charlie had the grace to look sheepish. "Well, I _had _only just woken up, remember."

"Perhaps it was an engage brain before mouth situation," came a feminine voice.

"Ri? How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough. Okay, Charlie-boy, Bill and I have done nothing. Gawd, and you complain about the _neighbours_ jumping to conclusions!"

"Right. Okay then." Charlie was concerned. He'd dealt with Bill, but Ria was another case entirely. She _did_ have an easily roused temper, and no one in their right mind wanted to get on the wrong side of her cutting tongue, in the time that they had lived together Charlie had worked that out.

"Not that it would be any of your business if we _had_ done anything, mind you. We're big kids now, we can look after ourselves."

"Ria, forgive me for stating the obvious, but you haven't been involved in a relationship with anyone for well nigh on three years. The idea of you jumping into bed with Bill didn't seem a particularly good one, bearing that in mind!"

"Thanks for that vote of confidence," Ria retorted. "For your information, I don't plan on 'jumping into bed' with anyone in the near future. Honestly, you men, there is more to life than animal instincts, you know! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." With that, she left the room, and Charlie simply gazed after her, feeling like a complete prat.

"Well, that went well," Bill said, grinning at him.

"Great, now she'll be an ice queen towards me for weeks!" Charlie wasn't happy. In spite of opinions to the contrary, he did enjoy the idea of a peaceful life, and life with an annoyed Ria was anything but peaceful.

"You made your bed, you have to lie in it," Bill pointed out.

"Oh, great saying there," Charlie said, dryly. "At this time, I have a personal preference for 'have your cake and eat it'. Talking of which, do you want breakfast?"

"Well, now you mention it…" Bill left his comment open.

"What do you want? And her holiness hasn't left the house yet, give her a yell for me, would you?"

"RIA!!" Bill obligingly yelled Ria's name.

"WHAT?" Ria yelled back.

"CHARLIE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU WANT BREAKFAST?"

"I always want breakfast," she said, appearing once again. "What is it?" Charlie noticed that she addressed herself to Bill, not to him. It would seem that she wasn't overly enamoured with him at the present time. Great.

"Dunno," Bill replied. "Charlie, what's for breakfast?"

"That," Charlie told him, patiently, "is what I want to know – what do you want?"

"What do you want, Ri?" Bill asked.

"She can hear me, you know," Charlie pointed out, exasperated. Honestly, this was bordering on childish.

"Toast and cereal, same as most mornings," Ria told Bill, pointedly. "Ask him if he wants help."

"Ria, you don't have to talk to me through Bill, you know," Charlie pointed out.

"Tell him I do," Ria told Bill, imperatively. But, Charlie could see the twinkle in her eye as she said it.

"You're evil, Ri, you know that?"

"Yes, dearie, but no more evil than you! What kind of tart do you think I am?" Ria sounded indignant.

"I don't think you're a tart at all, Ria, my sweet. Now, yes, I'd love some help. You can come and talk to the teapot for me." Bill raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Private joke," Ria explained, smiling benevolently in his direction. 

When they were all sitting around the table in the kitchen, Charlie turned to Bill.

"So, what is going on between the two of you?" 

"Nothing," they replied in unison, and far too quickly. Charlie smiled knowingly. How very…_predictable_ of them. 

"You do realise the two of you sound like you've been found in the broom shed illegally, don't you? McGonagall would be having a field day!"

"Wouldn't she just?" Ria replied, wryly. 

"You sound like the voice of experience," Bill smirked.

"I am," Ria replied shortly. Charlie couldn't help but smirk as well. So, Ria wasn't quite what she seemed then.

"Do tell," he told her, winningly.

"Yes; do," Bill agreed. Ria looked from one to the other, and then rolled her eyes.

"If only you knew how alike you looked," she told them. "That same puppy dog expression in your eyes."

"But you'll tell us," Charlie told her, "won't you."

"Oh, I'll tell you," Ria agreed. "With hindsight, it's actually rather funny."

"Now I'm intrigued," Bill told her, and silently, Charlie agreed. He'd always thought of Ria as being Little Miss Perfect at school.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear of it, actually, Charlie," she began. "You would have been in your last year at the time. I was actually pretty rebellious as a teenager. I think my parents despaired of me, to be brutally honest," she paused to smile. "Anyway, in my fifth year at Hogwarts I got involved in my first romance. With my best friend's twin brother actually. Of course, Jessalyn was over the moon about this – it gave her a marvellous source of material to tease us both with. Well, Jack and I decided that a midnight tryst would be particularly thrilling," again she paused, this time to laugh at herself. "Honestly, a midnight tryst. It sounds like something out of Shakespeare. Talk about melodrama. I must have been the Drama Queen of the decade! If I recall correctly, we started out in Professor Trelawney's little room. I have yet to work out just why, mind you. Both of us hated Divination with a passion. Anyway, the incense eventually got to us, and – being rather light-headed – we made for the broom shed. Bear in mind that this was the seventies. Well, when McGonagall found us, she was _not_ impressed."

"How far did you go?" Bill asked. Charlie glared at him. Talk about prying! 

"Far enough, and none of your business," Ria replied. "And just because people were saying 'Make Love not War' it doesn't mean that we forgot ourselves to the extent that we actually _did_."

"Well, if you weren't actually _doing_ anything, what was the problem?" Charlie demanded.

"You went to Hogwarts and you're asking why it was a bad thing that McGonagall found us in the broom shed. I daresay that things would have got more heady if she hadn't turned up when she did." Ria looked rather amused.

"So what happened to Jack?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"You _know_ Jack, you twit," Ria told him, affectionately.

"No I don't, the only friend of yours called Jack that I know of is," Charlie paused as the light dawned.

"Living with Tom in the wilds of Dover. Yes, Charlie, that is what happened to Jack. He decided he was the other way inclined, and dumped me for Tom the day after graduation. A few weeks later, I met Aidan, and the rest is history."

"You went out with him for two years before he realised?" Bill looked sceptical.

"Oh yeah," Ria was flippant. "You should see some of the letters he's written me. He and Jess are still my best friends, actually. Most of Jack's letters are beseeching me to hook up with some guy. That particular paragraph normally starts with something along the lines of _'Now Ri, I know that you haven't got over my stunning sexiness yet, but really, after five years, I think you should be looking elsewhere for fulfilment'_. He worries me, he really does."

"Sounds like quite a character," Bill said, grinning.

"Oh, he is," Charlie replied, thinking back to the first time he had met Jack and Tom. "Jack is one of those people who gets along with anyone and anyone, and Tom is pretty much the same. Both of them are rather enigmatic, to say the least."

"What about his sister?" Bill asked. "What's her name? Jessica?"

"Jessalyn," Ria corrected him. "Well, Jessie used to be a rebel to rival me. Then Edwin came along. Don't get me wrong, he's a lovely guy, but after she married him, Jess settled down to domestic bliss. Now, she and Edwin live on the Isle of Wight in perfect harmony. She has two daughters – Lindsay and Tatiana. Cuties they are too, but a far cry from the fifteen year old Jessalyn who swore that she was never going to marry."

Charlie had to smile. Ria never ceased to amaze him; there was so much about her past that he just didn't know, in spite of living with her for so long. He'd met Jack, and heard of Jessalyn, but this was possibly the first time that Ria had recalled her past in any great detail. Admittedly, it wasn't the era of her life he most wanted to know about, but it was a good start. Sooner or later she was bound to disclose just what it was that she had done in the year before she joined the Romanian team, and he could be patient. 

"It's Lisa's last day today," Ria told him, completely changing the subject.

"I'll bet Gerald is pleased, too," Charlie responded. "I'm surprised he let her carry on working for this long, to be honest. Pregnancy and dragons – not a particularly good mixture."

"I don't know," Ria mused, "I don't think that I'd let my husband or lover, or whatever tell me what to do if I ever ended up in the family way, heaven forbid. Besides, I'm sure it must be good for an unborn child to be so close to nature."

"Yes, Ri, whatever you say," Charlie replied. "The second you get pregnant I'm sending you home. You're accident prone enough as it is, without having a kid to worry about."

"Don't be so old fashioned," Ria chastised him. "This is 1991, not 1901!"

"I don't care. Some traditions should never be dispensed with," Charlie told her. He meant it too. If there was one thing that he was sure of, it was that babies should not be born on dragon territory unless they were scaly and breathed fire. It wasn't so much that he had a problem with pregnant women working – although he wasn't sure that that was a good idea either – it was more a case of safety. A few tonnes of dragon could never be safe, even when you were on top of your form. And he didn't care what anyone said, when you were wandering round with a sproglet inside you, you were not on the top of your form.

"Well, quite why it is that we're discussing my pregnancy – _again_, I really don't know," Ria told him. "Bearing mind that I am not, and never have been, pregnant. What I was going to say, before we got all wrapped up in babies, is that we'll be getting a new team member, won't that be nice?"

"Very. Her name is Merrilees and she's from Scotland. She was in your year at school, Ri. A Hufflepuff?"

"Merrilees Fergusson?" Ria grinned. "Merri's coming to play with dragons? Just wait until I tell Jess this! She'll have heart failure!"

"Why?" Bill seemed to be curious.

"Bill, honey, you never met Merrilees Fergusson, did you? I'm sorry, but that's just classic!" Ria went off into hysterics, and Charlie stared at her, worried about her mental health.

"Ri, are you feeling okay?" he asked, in mock concern.

"Oh, absolutely fine," Ria replied. "Charlie, if you think I'm bad, I'm not a patch on Merri. Oh, her heart's in the right place, granted, but if I remember correctly, she was the one who managed to muddle dragons with basilisks. All I can say is I hope her Care of Magical Creatures skills have improved somewhat!" Charlie looked at Ria in horror. How could anyone get dragons and Basilisks muddled up. It was like confusing humans with birds!

"That was a joke, right? Please, tell me that was a joke!" 

"Be logical, brother," Bill told him, scathingly. "They surely wouldn't employ someone who didn't know a dragon when she saw one."

"That's what you'd think, yes," Charlie replied. "But, I've been here for a while now, Bill, and I've seen some of the people who are 'experts' when it comes to dragons. Believe me, after that, I gave up trying to anticipate what they would do next."

"That bad?" Bill looked sympathetic.

"Worse," Charlie told him, smiling suddenly. "We got Ria, didn't we, and what could be worse than that?"

Playfully, Ria hit him. As they embarked on a play fight, Charlie noticed Bill smirking at them. Ten minutes and several punches later, Ria had him pinned to the floor.

"Ginny will be pleased," Bill observed. "Women's' Lib, and all that!"

"Shut up, Bill," Charlie said, struggling against Ria's grip, and eventually managing to turn the tables. "Hah, who's better now, your highness?"

"Charlie, stop being so childish," she replied, wriggling under him. "I'll be late for work if you don't move."

"Ri, you _can't_ be late for work, sweetie," Charlie pointed out. "You pick your own hours. And stop wriggling!"

"Well, move then!" Ria told him, in exasperation.

"Hey, you started this!" Charlie pointed out.

"Well, if you're going to be like that, let's just recap, shall we?" Charlie could detect a slightly dangerous tone in Ria's voice, but dismissed it.

"Ria – hit Charlie after he first suggested that she was involved in some kind of physical relationship with his brother, and then, to add insult to injury, mentioned that she was awful at looking after dragons. Charlie – see above. Hmm, who do you think is more in the wrong here?" Charlie opened his mouth to reply, but she beat him to it. "You, you big pillock, so get off of me!"

"Now now," Charlie mocked, "that's not very nice! What about the magic word?"

"Charlie, stop messing about and be your age, would you!" Grinning mischievously, Charlie set his flatmate free. 

"Teach you to attack me, that will," he told her, his tone self-satisfied.

"Have you finished molesting each other yet?" Bill asked him.

"I think so," Charlie told him. "I'm going now, so if you want," he paused, suggestively, "to talk, then feel free." He dodged the tea towel that Bill aimed at him, and left the house, smirking.

"Excuse me?" Charlie was startled out of a pleasant daydream as a melodic voice spoke to him. He looked up from his perch in the keepers' hut near the Ukrainian Ironbelly enclosure. Today, he was…_babysitting_ a female Ironbelly, in an effort to ensure that nothing harmed her eggs. A petite girl was standing there, murky green eyes studying him intently. "I'm Merrilees Fergusson – the new researcher. I was wondering if you knew where I should go?" Charlie took a second, closer look at her. She was the same age as Ariadne, he knew that, yet she looked much younger, and that was saying something. If he were asked to put an age to this Merrilees, he wouldn't have her out of Hogwarts, that was for sure, and yet, she was only two years younger than he was. Her messy hair was almost the same flaming red as his own, and the curly masses were caught off of her face in a short, thick and stubby braid. Her elfin face had a generous helping of freckles, and her mouth was smiling, uncertainly. If there was one thing he was sure of, she could never be described as beautiful. She couldn't be described as pretty, either, to be honest.

"Charlie Weasley," he offered her his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," she said smiling, and Charlie noticed that her English had that tell tale Scottish lilt, although, to be sure, it was no where near as pronounced as Joe MacFusty's. "I'm not really sure what's going on, to be honest," she explained to him, earnestly. "I mean, I was told to be here today, and I know that I'm going to be working with dragons, but beyond that, I know nothing."

"S'okay, we'll go and find Sam Kingston. Lisa was in her team, so I'm assuming you'll be there too. She'll know where you're supposed to be going. Follow me."

"I haven't got any luggage with me," Merrilees confided in him. "Mam said she'd send it on when I knew where I was. She said that I'd only have to lug it around if I brought it with me. Of course, I do have some stuff, but not too much."

Charlie, busy concentrating on talking to Merrilees, didn't notice the girl coming in the opposite direction until he had sent her sprawling to the ground. Without thinking, he helped her up.

"Honestly, Weasley," Ria glowered at him, jokingly, "you could look where you're going occasionally!"

"Sorry Ri," he said penitently. "What are you doing this way, anyway? I thought you were babysitting Norbertina."

"I was," Ria told him. "Then Sam told me that Merri was coming, and could I see about finding her." Then, she did a double take. "Merrilees? Heavens, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Ria!" Merrilees flung herself on Charlie's dark haired companion, causing Charlie to smile, and Ria to raise her eyebrows in concern. When Merrilees had at last finished trying to squeeze all the air out of her old school friend, she stood back to survey Ria critically.

"You've lost weight," she declared. Charlie looked at her in amazement. What was she talking about? Ria hadn't lost any weight. He'd be worried if she did; actually, she was almost slim enough to fit in the skinny category. "It suits you," Merrilees continued. "So, what happened with Aidan then?"

"Aidan?" Ria seemed slightly confused.

"Yes, Aidan, silly," Merrilees rolled her eyes. "You remember, Jack dumped you the day after graduation, and then you hooked up with Aidan. Last I heard, you were engaged to him. When's the wedding, and am I invited?"

"Wedding?" Ria asked, a slightly glazed look in her eyes. "What wedding? I'm not getting married any time soon."

"Really? Why on earth not? Four years in a long time to be engaged!"

"I'm not engaged," Ria said, shortly. 

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry!" Merrilees clearly didn't know what to say. On the one hand, Charlie was annoyed with her for upsetting Ria, but on the other hand, her charging at things like a bull in a china shop had the potential to be endearing.

"Don't worry," Ria replied shortly. "Do you want to go back to your Ironbellies, Charlie? I'll take Merri to see Sam."

"Thanks, Ri," Charlie replied. "Much appreciated. Back to the joy of egg watching," he winked at Merrilees, smiled at Ria, and walked away from them, back towards the enclosure.

"So, what do you want to do?"

"That's your call. If you want to leave it at this then I'll leave and we'll never mention it again." Two voices filtered out from Ria's bedroom when Charlie arrived home that evening. He frowned slightly, and was about to push her door open and announce his arrival, when another figure caught his eye. 

"Don't go in there," Merrilees Fergusson told him, smiling. "When Ria and I got back, she and Bill went off out, and I've not spoken to either of them since they got back, but by the sound of things, they have a lot to discuss."

"Whoa," Charlie said, sitting down beside her. "What are you doing here in the first place?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Merrilees smiled apologetically. "You see, they don't have any digs for me to stay in, and whilst I'd love to get close to all of the dragons, sleeping in a dragon enclosure doesn't exactly suggest that one would get a good nights sleep. Well, Sam wasn't quite sure what to do, and then Ria said that I could stay here with her until Lisa's old rooms are ready for me."

"Well, that makes sense," Charlie agreed. "The more the merrier, after all, if you'll pardon the pun." Merrilees smiled at him.

"Not your fault," she told him. "It's a common enough saying. Its just unfortunate that my name is Merri, really."

"Merrilees is a pretty uncommon name," Charlie observed. "What with you and Ariadne – did your year just go in for strange handles?"

"Ria and I probably have the most strange," Merrilees reflected. "And between the two of us, I think I win the prize when it comes to most bizarre name – Merrilees. My father came up with that one. Apparently its some kind of gypsy name, and not in the least Scottish. I think Mam wanted to call me Bonnie, but Dad said that Merrilees was much more unique, and they could call me Merri for short. After all, there's not so much difference between being bonny and being merry that she could really object. So, Merrilees it was."

"Its pretty," Charlie observed.

"Yeah, but would you call _your _daughter Merrilees?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no," Charlie grinned ruefully. "We try not to discuss babies, to be honest. Up until the arrival of my darling brother a couple of days ago, Ria and I were both happily single, thank you very much. Besides, I suppose I've always thought that the mother gets to choose the girls' names, and the father the boys'."

"Old fashioned, are we? And did it work that way in your family?" It was obvious that Merrilees was curious, and Charlie realised that here was someone who'd be a valuable addition to his circle of friends.

"Well, no," Charlie admitted. "There are six boys to one girl in our family, and Ginny's the youngest. Mum chose all our names. Mum is your typical matriarch, actually. She's terribly protective of us all, and my dad is subordinate to her, if I'm honest."

"So, what's your full name?" Merrilees asked.

"Charles John Weasley," Charlie told her, agreeably. "What about yours?"

"Merrilees Arabella Fiona Fergusson," she replied, ruefully. "Awful, isn't it?" Charlie fought back the urge to laugh. 

"Not at all," he said, kindly. "Unusual."

"When I was small, I alternated between wishing I had some kind of normal name, like Elizabeth or Anne, and thanking my lucky stars that I was never going to have to worry about there being someone else with my name in my class."

"I can understand that," Charlie said. "Considering Charles is actually a fairly well known and used name, I have to say, I have yet to come across any one who shares it with me – apart from famous people, obviously."

"Do you have many siblings?" Merrilees asked, changing the subject.

"Six," Charlie replied. "Here," he picked up a framed photograph of the Weasley dynasty from the table beside him. "That's my mum, Molly, and my dad, Arthur. Bear in mind that Ginny was only six when this was taken, and she's ten now, so its four years old and they've all changed somewhat. Anyway, that's Bill, you've met him, he's the one eyeing up Ria. I'll let you find out about him from him. In front of Bill is George. He and Fred are identical twins, and pranksters extraordinaire. They were eight when this was taken – twelve now. To George's left is Ron. He's the youngest boy – he's only seven here, although he's in his first year at Hogwarts now. He's pretty funny too, but not quite as prone to getting into trouble as Fred and George. He's also _very_ good at chess."

"The little girl is Ginny," Bill's voice came from over his shoulder. Charlie had been so engrossed in showing Merrilees his family that he had missed his brother and Ria joining them. "Gin's sweet. You really should get a more up to date photo, Charlie. She's changed loads since that was taken." Bill was admiring the photograph critically. It was unusual for the wizarding world because none of the figures moved. "Why did you bring the Muggle one, anyway?"

"Well, when we had the magical one out, Ria realised that visitors might actually take offence at some of Fred and George's antics, so she said we had to stick to Muggle photos."

"And that," Bill said, continuing to explain the family to Merrilees, "is Percy. He's fifteen going on five hundred, if you ask me. Percy is the family black sheep, really. The rest of us are all a lot more fun loving. Percy can be really serious."

"Oh, leave the poor boy alone," Ria laughed. "Someone has to be the voice of reason, you know! Come on the Merri, tell Bill and Charlie all about your family."

"Well, it's nowhere near as large as theirs," Merrilees pointed out.

"Which means we won't be sitting around for hours whilst you tell us about them," Ria pointed out. "Come on, tell all!"

"I don't know why you're so eager," Merrilees exclaimed. "You know all about them anyway."

"Yes, but Bill and Charlie don't, so do hurry up!" Charlie smiled at Ria's enthusiasm. 

"Well, I'm the eldest, and then there's Dillon. He's nineteen now; he graduated from Hogwarts last year. He's pretty conscientious, but he's always up for a laugh. Cerian is the baby, and she's seventeen now, and in her last year at Hogwarts. We're a hotch potch mix. Strangely, for all our family is _very_ Scottish, none of us have Scottish names. My name is Sassenach, Dillon's Irish, and Cerian's is Welsh. And then, all three of us have been in different houses. I was a Hufflepuff, Dillon a Ravenclaw, and Cerian is a Gryffindor."

"Yes, but houses are based on characteristics, and there's no guarantee that everyone from the same family will be in the same house. Lucy, Becca and Gemma were all Ravenclaws, and I was a Gryffindor," Ria pointed out. Charlie resisted the urge to mention that she was not of the same genetic stock as her siblings, which may have had something to do with it.

"Looks like we still hold the record for biggest family on the reserve then," he said, grinning at Bill. "They have yet to beat nine, although there's an eight floating around somewhere."

"We always are," Bill pointed out.

"So," Charlie said, curiosity getting the better of him, "what were you two nattering about?"

"Us?" Ria asked, innocently.

"No, Merrilees and the owl," Charlie replied, sarcastically. "Of course you!"

"We were just consolidating our relationship," Ria told him, with dignity.

"You have a relationship? This morning you were maintaining that there was nothing going on between the two of you," Charlie pointed out.

"Because this morning there was nothing between the two of us," Bill told him. "And certainly not in the way you meant."

"But there is now," Charlie stated.

"Yes, we're getting married next week," Ria told him, dryly. "No, Charlie, dear, in the past couple of hours we haven't done anything of that nature. We have decided to experiment with long distance relationships, however. But thank you for your concern, and what's for dinner?" Charlie sighed. Bill and Ria together. The principle was great. But Bill was leaving on the morrow, and he really didn't want either Bill or Ria to be hurt by a relationship. He supposed that his hands were tied in the matter, but he had a strange sense of foreboding about the whole affair.

__

He loves her, he loves her not, he loves her, he loves her not… Oh, I'm so cruel. Rest assured that things **will** work out in the end - I'm not that heartless - although who will end up with who I don't know. Until next time, mes amis, I'll leave you with a letter of thanks:

****

Anne - Well, the Weasleys ROX, as do the Beatles and Shakespeare. And, well, the idea of Bill as a Beatles fan was too good to miss out on. Everyone is wary of Bill/Ria, it would seem. Am I the only one who doesn't want to doom their relationship to failure? 

****

Thing1 - The idea retort - that's the sort of thing I say to my friends with alarming frequency. I somehow won the title of responsible - I wonder how that happened. Charlie and Ron are my favourite Weasleys, and I'm wary of writing any of the trio, so dragon-boy gets his moment in the limelight. 

****

Adrea Evans - Sir Rutherford isn't so bad - it's Georgia - I can't stand her. She was great fun to write though. It's so hard to explain writing dialogue, because Charlie and Ria have frequent arguments in my head - most of them don't end up on paper. Ria's playing her cards close to her chest, so I don't suppose she'll enlighten us about her family problems for a few chapters - the emotional wound is pretty hefty. And Bill and Charlie will survive with minimum bloodshed - none of them will die in this_ fic, at least._

****

Lone astronomer - LOL Don't you always love other peoples characters more than your own? I love your Charlie! I need Lion and the Unicorn fixes regularly. And Charlie in the kitchen… well, he's been a bachelor for so long, I thought he'd have to learn to cook at some point, especially as Ri clearly can't. You're a C/R shipper - join the club, that takes membership up to about 5, I think. I won't say which Weasley I support, though. Aidan is…well, I don't like him. Ria will have to spill at some point - the question is when?

****

Moey - You have no idea how much time I have spent working out the logistics of the dragon reserve - I gave up the floor plan when I realised just how many nations were involved (it wouldn't fit on a sheet of A4) - I do, however, have a map plotting the route from Romania to Egypt for Ria, and a world map with the various magical creatures in their home countries. The Hermione in me had a field day! You think it's tangled now? I'm only just getting started.

Thanks to y'all for reviewing - Chapter 5 will be along as soon as I've finished Chapter 6 (there is logic in that statement, honestly J ). Ciao for now! Hallie


	5. Chapter 5 - Merri and the Unicorns

Spiritus aduro

**Part V**

          "Somebody's popular today," Merrilees commented, as the sixth owl of the morning swooped in the window and dropped a fifth letter on Charlie's lap.  "If I didn't know better, I'd say that this was the local owl office."  Merrilees had been staying with Charlie and Ria for over a week, and there seemed to be little sign of her getting accommodation.  Not that it really mattered.  She was perfectly happy living with Charlie and Ria.  The two of them lived outside of the dragon reserve itself, something that Merri was thankful for.  She wasn't sure that she'd be able to sleep if there was a dragon outside her quarters.  Merri got up from the table, and went to stand at the window and observe the scenery outside.  The reserve was in the west of Romania, concealed behind the enormous splendour of the Transylvanian Alps and Carpathian Mountains, with their lush green covering of forests.  This majestic beauty was secluded from prying eyes, an ideal refuge for wizards wishing to study dragons, and indeed, any other type of magical creature.  Behind Merrilees, the conversation at the breakfast table continued, but she blotted it out until she heard her name.

  "...Merri!  Merri!  Come on girl, get back on planet Earth with the rest of us!"  Ria was laughing at her. 

  "What was that?" she asked.

  "You were in cloud-crup land," Charlie informed her.

  "Too right you were," Ria smiled.  "Still, you're back with us now, so I suppose I'll let you off."  Merri regarded her with interest.  Ria had no room to talk when it came to daydreaming - she was always at it.  Then again, Merri reflected Ria, often didn't realise that she was doing it; so they should cut her some slack.  "Anyway, listen to Charlie's letter," Ria continued.  "It's from Percy the Prefect."  Again she grinned.  Charlie cleared his throat, and began to read.

  "'_Dear Charlie,_

_                             I haven't written to you for a while - I'm sure you understand that I have been busy with exams and keeping an eye on the first years and everything - so I thought I'd drop you a line now that the exams are over, and everyone is slacking off a bit.  I'm not, of course - slacking off can only result in poor quality work, and as a prefect I have to set a good example to the lower years.'"  Charlie laughed.  "No wonder the twins call him Pompous Percy in their letters!  In every single letter he's sent me this year he's mentioned that he has to set a good example to the lower years because he's a prefect."_

  "Good for him," Ria replied.  "We're interested in this particular letter, so do carry on."  Charlie glared at her, and then returned to his reading.

  "'_I must say, the most peculiar things have been going on around here recently.  Ron's friends have managed to lose Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points - and McGonagall took them.  It really is very unfair, because we were in the lead until that happened, and now I think the Slytherins are going to win, which, quite frankly, is a disaster.  They're insufferable as it is.  I have no idea what they were doing to lose so many points, and Ron won't say - that boy has no respect for authority.  That's all blown over now, though.  Ron's got into even more trouble.  Sometimes I wonder how on earth we came to be related.''"  Charlie paused again.  "Dad clearly hasn't given him the talk yet then.  Otherwise he'd know-"_

  "Yes, Charlie, we know exactly how sprogs come into being," Merri told him.  "Carry on with the letter, there's a good boy."  Charlie glared at her and Merri smiled.

  "'_Anyway, a couple of nights back, it seems that Ron, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger - his best friends, you know - they went off on another of their little midnight excursions.  Those three have no respect for rules and regulations - as if they haven't been in enough trouble!  Well, no one knows exactly what happened, but the next morning Harry and Ron were both in the Hospital Wing.  I'm not sure what's wrong with Harry, but Ron has concussion.  Of course, we've heard nothing official about what went on, but according to the grapevine You-Know-Who was involved.  Apparently Harry fought him.  I don't believe any of it, of course.  You-Know-Who disappeared years ago, thank goodness.  But it **is**__puzzling.  Anyway, I think the exams went okay, and I'm looking forward to the summer, of course.  Love, Percy.'"  Merri glanced at Charlie to gauge his reaction to his brother's letter.  He looked suitably stunned._

  "You-Know-Who?" Ria asked, frowning.  

  "I hope not," Charlie replied.  "And to be honest, I doubt it.  Like Percy, I'm sceptical.  He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named disappeared years ago when Ron and co. were babies.  Why wait till now to come back?"

  "Why not?" Merri asked, challenging.  "I don't for a minute think that he's dead."  Charlie and Ria both looked at her in astonishment.

  "Merri!" Ria exclaimed.

  "No, Ri, I'm serious," Merri told her, and she meant it.  "Let's look at the facts.  We have Voldemort, mad evil guy with a taste for power.  Then we have Harry Potter, one-year-old baby whose parents have just been annihilated.  Who would you put your money on?"

  "Okay, I see your point," Charlie said, slowly.  "But Harry did get rid of him."

  "You're right.  Harry did get rid of him," Merri agreed.  Then she sighed.  "My dad's an Auror," she told them.  "He knew James and Lily Potter - granted, most Aurors did, but my dad was in the same cell group as them.  They were friends - not best friends, but more than acquaintances.  We went to their wedding, and Harry's christening.  The day they died, my dad said that Voldemort was still around.  He said that if he killed James and Lily then there was no way that anyone could stop him.  Of course, my dad's not exactly noted for his optimism, but you know..."

  "Merri, forgive me for stating the obvious, but if Harry didn't kill You-Know-Who then what happened to him?" Ria asked.

  "That I don't know," Merri admitted.  "But Voldemort was working on making himself immortal, according to information that Dad got.  If that was the case, even a rebounded Avada Kedavra couldn't kill him.  I don't think he made it to immortal, but he was pretty close, if he got Lily and James.  And they never found his body.  Until Voldemort's body is produced, I'm working on the assumption that he lives on."  Merri looked at Charlie and Ria, and saw that the two of them were nodding, slowly.

  "The evidence would suggest that You-Know-Who is alive and kicking then," Charlie said, bluntly.  "So how on _earth did Ron get concussion?  I mean, if I was up against the biggest Dark wizard of all time, I wouldn't be engaging in a fist fight."_

  "Charlie, any sane and sensible person would be running as fast as they could if they saw him," Ria pointed out, dryly.  "Write to Ron and ask him for the truth.  You never know, he might tell you."

  "It might all have been a prank," Charlie suggested, doubtfully.

  "Maybe, but I doubt it," Ria replied.  "I've met Harry and Hermione, and Hermione doesn't strike me as the type to get drawn into pranks easily."

  "Hermione's not in the hospital wing," Charlie replied.  Merri sensed that the two of them could turn Hermione into an argument, and hastened to stop it before it began.

  "Well, I suggest we wait until we hear from Ron before getting all excited," she said.  "Any other interesting post that I should know about?"

  "Not from me," Charlie told her, smiling.

  "Mine's from my sister," Ria began.  "Olivia and Claire will be here at the end of the week.  We'll stay here over the weekend, and then use a Portkey to get to Egypt."

  "Are you staying with Bill?" Merri asked, noticing Charlie's sudden interest.

  "Probably," Ria replied.  "I wrote to him, and he said that he'd sort something out, so I'm letting him get on with it.  I have those two to worry about, I'm not going to create any more problems than I have to."

  "Sensible," Merri agreed.  "Well, I'm off now.  Work calls and all that."

  "Leave me to do all the tidying, why don't you?" Charlie complained.

  "Ria's here too," Merri pointed out.

  "So she is," Charlie agreed.  "And today, it's her turn to clear.  Up you get, Ri."  Ria groaned.  Merri laughed and then waved. 

  "See you guys this evening," she called, and the Disapparated.

*        *        *        *

          Merri studied the dragon's egg critically.  It _looked like it might hatch, but she had learnt from bitter experience that looks weren't everything.  Opaleye eggs were pale grey - almost stone like - and apparently, Muggles were prone to mistaking them for fossils.  Merri had to admit that the mistake was an easy one to make.  Merri's mother was radically pro-Muggle, and when Merri had been growing up she had been subjected to both wizard and Muggle experiences.  The Opaleye egg was remarkably similar to a fossilised dinosaur egg that she had seen when her mother had insisted on taking her to some type of Natural History Museum. _

          The dragon guarding the eggs eyed Merri warily.  She smiled.

  "Cheer up, Octavia, not much longer now."  Merri had to admit that anyone passing would probably consider her to be a certifiable lunatic.  What fool stood at the edge of a dragon enclosure and _talked to the dragon?  "I'm crazy, aren't I old girl," she said to the dragon.  "Still, those hatchlings of yours best not take too long to come about, or I'll get seriously bored."  The dragon snorted, and scarlet smoke came out of her nostrils.  "You know, Octie, that smoke of yours is actually rather pretty.  I suppose it goes with the rest of you."  Merri sighed.  In some places, Opaleyes were nearing extinction.  They were native to New Zealand, but there was a roaring black market trade in Opaleye skin and eyes.  The Opaleye scales were pearlescent, sought after to make ladies handbags and shoes, as well as trousers for the more flamboyant wizards.  The eyes of the Atipodean Opaleye were used in jewellery.  It sickened Merri to think that people would kill animals for their skins and the like, but she knew that it went on.  Indeed, at the reserve, all the dragons were closely monitored - it was not unheard of for a Romanian wizard of shady character to attempt to kidnap one of the dragons and sell them on.  "Don't you get irritated, sitting on those sprogs of yours for so long?" Merri asked the dragon, curiously.  The Opaleye rolled her eyes, and Merri clapped with delight.  "More intelligent than you seem, aren't you!" she exclaimed.  "Got any name ideas for your babes?"  The dragon seemed to nod her head slightly.  Of course, Merri realised that all these movements were probably coincidence, but even so, it was cute to watch.  "I rather like Prudence, I think," Merri informed the dragon.  "Pearly Prudence the Antipodean Opaleye.  It has quite a ring to it!"_

  "Excuse me?"  

Merri started, and wheeled round to see another of the dragon keepers.

  "Sorry, I don't think we've met," she informed him.

  "Quite right, we haven't," he replied, easily.  "I'm Jonathan Sommers."

  "Merrilees Fergusson," Merri smiled and offered her hand.

  "You're new," Jonathan said.  

  "Reasonably," Merri agreed.  "I got here just over a week ago.  I'm staying with friends, until those in charge can find me a place of my own."

  "Well, that would explain it," Jonathan replied.  "I've been on a mission of mercy, saving the Chinese public from an errant Fireball.  You said you were staying with friends…?"

  "Ariadne Rutherford and Charlie Weasley," Merri clarified.  She wasn't sure why, but she trusted this man.

  "Oh, I know Ria and Charlie," Jonathan smiled.  "Who doesn't?"

  "They do have quite a presence," Merri agreed.  

  "Indeed they do.  As does Prudence," he grinned mischievously.

  "Oh, you weren't supposed to hear that!" Merri laughed.  

  "It's nothing new," Jonathan informed her.  "Half the wizards and witches on the reserve name the dragons they look after, although there usually less wordy than 'Pearly Prudence the Antipodean Opaleye'."

  "I like to be different," Merri informed him.  "Anyway, Octavia is being boring at the moment, with her eggs – one of them will eventually be Prudence - and everything.  I'm supposed to be writing an observation of her."

  "Ah – the dreaded observations," Jonathan laughed.  "Every year someone has to write an observation of all the nesting dragons.  You'd be surprised at how much people can write, although it basically boils down to 'Guarded eggs with their life' type stuff."

  "I'm not sure how it's useful," Merri told him.  "But as I have to do it, I will do it with flair and originality," she grinned.

  "You'd be surprised at how useful they are – you can tell a lot about a dragon from the way they protect their eggs," Jonathan said.

  "Whatever you say," Merri said, dubiously.

  "Seriously, Merrilees," Jonathan began, and Merri cut him off.

  "Oh, call me Merri – everyone does.  Merrilees is such a mouthful."

  "I'm Jon," Jonathan told her.  "Anyway, it's easiest to tell when a dragon's off colour during the nesting season," he explained.  "They change the way they guard their eggs, and it's all very subtle."

  "So the manual says," Merri replied.  "But that doesn't stop the actual obs. from being boring."

"Never mind," Jon said, sympathetically.  "Look, what are you doing this evening?"

  "Sitting at home watching Charlie and Ria argue, probably," Merri said, promptly.  

  "I'll come and collect you, and show you some of the more…_interesting parts of the reserve," Jon said.  "If that's okay?" he added._

  "Anything is better than watching Charlie explain to Ria that it does take time for owls to come from Egypt," Merri informed him.  

  "Egypt?  Why's she expecting owls from Egypt, of all places?"

  "Why not?" Merri countered.  "Well, actually, I think it's to do with Bill, Charlie's brother.  He and Ri were getting rather cosy when he came to visit."

  "Really?" Jon was interested.  "I always thought it would be Charlie and Ria who would get together."

  "Yes, well, Charlie says he's fine with it."

  "He's lying," Jon informed her.  "He's besotted.  We all know he is."

  "I don't know," Merri mused.  She shook her head.  "Well, Ri can't have both of them – it's not fair."

  "It isn't?"

  "Of course it isn't – both Charlie and Bill ooze sex appeal," Merri informed him.  "And if Ria's taken then Charlie will be on the lookout for somebody."

  "That somebody being you?" Jon suggested.

  "Me?  Looking like this?"  Merri laughed, self-consciously.  "Don't be so stupid."  The truth of the matter was, she did find Charlie an appealing prospect.  He was every girl's idea of bliss.  

  "Okay then," Jon glanced at his watch.  "I'd better be off.  Have fun playing with Octavia."  He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, and Merri went back to the Opaleye, wondering just when the interesting aspect of dragon watching would come about.

*        *        *        *

          Merri had just about finished her period of dragon watching, and had a rather numb behind as a result of sitting in the same place for so long.  The night was pleasant, and twilight had yet to fall, although it was half past seven in the evening, so Merri decided to walk back to Charlie and Ria's.  She came from a particularly green part of Scotland, and had always been a big fan of trees and shrubs.  The dragon reserve was cleverly placed in the middle of a forest, with the various enclosures situated in clearings.  If a wizard were to travel over the reserve on a broomstick, they would see the various clearings and watch stations.  Muggles, on the other hand, saw only trees, thanks to a clever ward that was maintained at all times.  

          Merri was walking down one of the paths that connected the clearings when her ears caught a high pitched wailing sound.  Intrigued, she followed the sound, which came from within the trees.  The sight that greeted her made her feel physically sick.  She had heard that some of the locals occasionally poached on the reserve, looking for magical creatures whose wares they could sell for a small fortune, but nothing could have prepared her for this.  The unicorn in front of her was only a baby, and caught in a very nasty looking trap.  Its violet eyes looked at her pleadingly, almost begging her for assistance, and it didn't take her long to spot the traces of blood coming from where its leg was caught.

          Merri was horrified – she knew that unicorns had very powerful magical abilities of their own, and an adult would never have been caught in such a trap, although it looked like it was magically enhanced.  The baby, with its telltale golden hair, didn't really stand a chance of escaping.  

  "Oh you poor thing!" she exclaimed, quietly, so as not to scare the little creature.  She got down on her knees next to the unicorn, oblivious of the thorns and more irritating substances that littered the forest floor, to take a better look at the trap.  It wouldn't be too difficult to release the unicorn.  She pointed her wand at the trap and muttered a spell, causing it to disintegrate.  Clearly whoever had made the trap wasn't an expert at making things to last, which was a relief to Merri although it wasn't an attribute to be proud of.  "There you are," she said to the unicorn.  It tried to get up, but failed.  The trap had caused more than a little damage to its leg.  "Sorry, mate, it looks like you're going to have to come home with me," she informed it, genuinely sorry.  It was well known that humans avoided human contact.  She conjured up a stretcher and gently levitated the unicorn on to it, before continuing the journey home.

*        *        *        *

  "Oh dear Merlin!  CHARLIE!" Ria exclaimed, as Merri entered the house.  Charlie appeared in the hallway, and Merri was quick to notice his disgusted glance at the unicorn's injury.

  "You _are allowed animals in the house, I assume," she said, quietly._

  "Of course," Ria replied.  "How else would Charlie live here?" Merri laughed half-heartedly.

  "Here, bring it into the living room," Charlie said, holding the door open.  "We can get the fire going to keep it warm."

  "It is a she," Ria informed him.

  "How do you know?" Merri and Charlie demanded in unison.

  "Violet eyes," Ria replied.  "Only female unicorns have violet eyes, the males tend to be blue.  Well, more tend to be blue, actually.  This little one is rarer than you might think."  She knelt down to inspect the wound, much as Merri had done earlier.

  "Merri, go and get cleaned up, you look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards," Charlie told her.  "It would seem Ri knows what she's doing."

  "Kind of," Ria said, doubtfully.  "Does human medicine work on unicorns, do you think?"

  "So much for being an expert," Charlie replied, wryly.  "I have no idea.  Maybe I should go and get Jon Sommers.  He's back from China now, and he's probably the biggest magical creature authority on the reserve."

  "Jon Sommers?" Merri looked at him, shocked.  "I met him earlier.  Is he important?"

  "Only the head of the English division here, Merri love," Ria said, smiling.  "Yes, Charlie, do go and get him."  Charlie Disapparated and Merri turned to Ria. 

  "He was going to take me around the reserve this evening," she told her.

  "Really?" Ria was interested.  "He's taken a shine to you then.  Jon usually spends his time with magical creatures, and everyone has given up hope of marrying him off, which infuriates his parents – they're an old wizarding family, and he's their only son.  They want to carry on the line."

  "How quaint," Merri replied, dryly.  

*        *        *        *

          "People who do things like this should be shot," Jon Sommers said savagely, when he saw the unicorn's leg.  Gently, he balmed and bandaged it, after checking that nothing was broken.  "She should be okay," he informed them.  "You'll have to keep her here though."

  "In that case she needs a name," Merri said, firmly.  He smiled at her.

  "Call her Ezara," he said.

  "Ezara.  I like that," Merri smiled.  "Ezara it is."

  "You do realise that you've got a companion for life, Merri, don't you?" Jon asked.

  "I have?" 

  "Ezara is only a baby.  You saved her.  In her eyes, you take the place of her mother, who must be dead, or she'd have rescued her long before you got there.  The chances are you'll never get rid of her."

  "It works for me," Merri smiled.  "I always wanted a pet unicorn."

  "You'll need a proper house, though, Merri," Charlie pointed out.  "You won't be able to get a fully grown Ezara into a flat."  Merri thought for a moment.

  "I suppose I'll have to save up and buy a house of my own," she replied.  Ria glanced at Charlie, and Charlie nodded.

  "In the meantime, you can stay here," she told Merri.  "If you don't mind sharing a room with me, that is."

  "Of course not!" Merri exclaimed.  "I love living here!"  She hugged Ria and Charlie, and in her joy, Jon as well.  

  "Looks like you've got your housing problem sorted then," he smiled.  "I don't suppose you'll want that tour of the reserve now – it's a bit late, anyway."

  "Oh, can we reschedule?" Merri asked.  "I'd love to see everything."

  "What about Ezara?" Jon asked.

  "Oh, I'll look after her," Ria said.  "I can write to Bill at the same time.  Don't worry about that."

  "I'm not free for the rest of the week," Jon said, regretfully.  "But next week…?"

  "Name a time and I'll be there," Merri replied, smiling.

  "Great.  I'll come and find you next week – it will give me an excuse to check up on Ezara," Jon grinned.  "And now," he said, grimly, his smile disappearing.  I'll be going to try and work out just _how Ezara got trapped in the first place."  He Disapparated._

  "Merri and Jon, sitting the tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Ria began to sing, triumphantly.

  "Shut up, Ri!" Merri exclaimed.  "You'll scare the baby."  Ria raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled.  

*        *        *        *

Merri and Jon arrived back at the house in high spirits after their tour.

  "Do you want a drink or something?" Merri asked.

  "A cup of coffee would be great, thanks," Jon replied.  Merri ushered him into the sitting room, and returned with two steaming mugs.  They were just about to start talking again when two little girls fell out of the fire, complete with rubbish.

  "AUNTIE RIA!!" the taller of the two shouted, excitedly.  "WE'RE HERE!"  She was grinning broadly, and clearly hadn't noticed Merri and Jon.

  "Hello," Merri said, smiling.

  "Who are you?" the smaller girl demanded.  Merri laughed.  These were obviously Ria's nieces.

  "I'm Merri, and this is my friend Jon," she explained.  "You must be Claire and Olivia."

  "Did we get the wrong grate?" the first girl asked, worriedly.  

  "No, you're in the right place," Merri reassured her.

  "LIVVY!  CLAIRE!" Ria entered the room, clearly in a bit of a flap.  "I wasn't expecting you for a couple of days."

  "Oh, Mummy and Aunt Lucy don't know we've came," the smaller girl told her, smiling.  "We found the Floo Powder, and thought we'd visit you.  Livvy knew what to do."

  "Livvy would," came the wry reply.  "What about customs?  You can't Floo between countries."

  "We just told them we were visiting you, and they let us through," the girl who must have been Livvy piped up.  "It was really easy."

  "What about your mother?" Ria demanded.

  "We left a note," Livvy replied.  "It will be fine."  Ria groaned.

  "How am I related to you two?" she demanded.  "Liv, get here.  You need to explain to Luce before she kills me!"  

          After two conversations in the fire, Ria's sisters were suitably calmed, and she could welcome her nieces properly.

  "Livvy, Claire, this is Merri, my friend, and Jon, my boss.   This is Claire," she touched the blonde girl's shoulder lightly, "and this is Olivia."  Olivia had the same dark colouring as Ria herself, and was absolutely covered in soot, while Claire had managed to remain fairly clean.

  "Pleased to meet you," Olivia smiled, curtseying gravely.  Merri smiled back – these kids were a riot.

  "How d'you do?" Claire added, following her cousin's example.

  "Fine, thank you," Merri replied.

  "Is he your boyfriend?" Livvy demanded, pointing at Jon.

  "No, he's not," Merri replied, blushing, as Jon smiled.  "He's my boss."

  "Oh."  Livvy was stumped, temporarily.  "Does he boss you about?"

  "No," Merri replied, tickled by Livvy's self-composure.

  "Well, my daddy is a boss, and he tells people what to do."

  "So's mine," Claire added, nodding her head vigorously, causing her hair to bob up and down.

  "Well, I don't run a business," Jon explained, grinning.  "I just make sure that everyone looks after the dragons and other creatures properly."

  "Do you have unicorns?" Livvy asked.  "I love unicorns.  Auntie Ri sent me a unicorn postcard once."

  "Come with me," Merri said, offering her hand.  Livvy took it, and Claire followed suit.  She took them through to the dining room, which had become Ezara's home.  "This is Ezara," she explained, as Livvy and Claire gave delighted squeals.  

Ezara had become a lot tamer over the week, although, true to unicorn nature, she was happier with women than she was with men.  It was just as well, Merri reflected, because Ria's nieces didn't strike her as being the shy quiet types.

  "She's a baby!" Livvy said, happily.  "Look, Claire, she's all gold.  Only baby unicorns are gold."

  "She's pretty," Claire said, approvingly.  "Can I stroke her?" she asked Merri.

  "Only very gently," Merri explained.

  "Oh, she's got a bandage," Livvy noticed.  "Was she hurt?"

  "She got caught in a trap," Merri told her.  "That's why she's here."

*        *        *        *

          It had taken a while, but at last Olivia and Claire were sleeping.  They were top and tailing on Ria's bed, and Merri had moved into Charlie's room temporarily, so that Ria was around in the middle of the night, should either of them wake up feeling homesick.  However, from what Merri had seen of them, Ria's nieces were more likely to get up in the middle of the night and go and play Quidditch in a dragon enclosure than they were to get homesick.  

          Jon had stayed for supper, which was served purely because the little girls had left their grandmother's home in England just after breakfast, and had eaten practically nothing since then.  They were as articulate at the dinner table as they were elsewhere, and Olivia, in particular, had taken a shine to Merri, or so Ria said.  

  "They're cuties, aren't they," Merri had said to Jon, as they studied the constellations.

  "If I ever have children, I hope they're as impish as those two," Jon had agreed.  "How boring would life be if all children were angels?"

  "You want to have children, then?"  Merri asked, remembering what Ria had said.

  "With the right person, sure," Jon had agreed, easily.  "I'm only thirty, Merri, not ancient.  There's still plenty of time."

  "And do you think you'll meet the right person?"

  "When the time's right," Jon had replied, cryptically.  Merri had laughed. 

  "So, when I'm drawing my pension, I'll get back to you?" she asked.

  "Cynic," he said, hitting her, playfully.

  "Better to be a cynic than broken hearted," Merri had replied. 

  "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,'" Jon quoted.

  "And it's probably true," Merri agreed.  "But how much more fun would it be to have loved and kept?"

  "Ask your parents," Jon suggested.  

  "My mother has never loved and lost, so I don't suppose she'd be able to offer much comparison.  My father, on the other hand…Well, Mum's his second wife, so he might know."

  "What happened to the first?" Jon asked, curiously.

  "She was murdered when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was around," Merri replied.  "Dad always said that the biggest risk he ever took was marrying Mum and having us while You-Know-Who had power."

  "But clearly it was worth it," Jon replied.

  "Oh, of course it was," Merri said, flippantly, trying to lighten the mood.  "He got me, after all."  She had looked at Jon, and they both laughed.

*        *        *        *

          Merri was disturbed from pleasant slumbers by Charlie's snoring.  Sighing, she buried her head under her pillow.  She was seriously confused, something that she was not accustomed too, unless it was in an academic sense, and this certainly wasn't academic.  She was attracted to Charlie, she couldn't deny it, but she also liked Jon.  The thing was, did she like Jon as a friend, or want him to be more than that?  And if she wanted more, and he wanted more, then what would happen?  The fact still remained that Jonathan Sommers was her boss, and any fool knew better than to fall for the person that employed them.  But then, as the saying went, 'Love is blind'.  Merri sighed.  Even with all these romantic problems, she was happy in Romania.  The atmosphere at the dragon reserve was easy-going and friendly, and she had got Ezara out of the whole affair, which was always going to be a bonus.  She looked out of the window from her bed.  The stars were twinkling brightly and had an oddly soothing effect.  She smiled to herself.  Two o'clock in the morning was not the time to worry about romantic problems.  She rolled over, and closed her eyes, preparing for the blissful release of sleep.

_GAH!!  I'm so sorry this has taken so long to be published – it's been written for months, but I just haven't got around to posting it.  Really you have Lone Astronomer to thank for this, as she wanted to know when this was out in the The Lion and the Unicorn thread.  If you haven't read that already then I suggest you do so now – it's another Charlie based story, and believe me, there are some incredibly poignant scenes in there, not to mention a healthy scattering of Sirius Black, another of my all time favourites.  Thanks go to Arabella for beta-reading this for me, in spite of my complete incompetence with apostrophes – you learn something every day!_

_Okay – as always, I'm sticking staunchly to the thanks section, believe me, reviews mean an awful lot to me._

**_Anne_**_  Which Weasley?  LOL  I know where I'm going now, and I finally have a plot plan.  Believe me, the Weasleys will end up with the right women.  Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer._

**_Jane_**  _Now if I told you my SA shipping preference, it would ruin all my plot lines, so I'll have to leave you in suspense.  Show me someone who is happy with the Bill/Ria pairing!  Thanks a lot for the friendly reminder, which I only discovered when looking for reviews.  It's only taken me twenty days to respond __J._

_Thank you for reading, peoples, and if you're still reading this then bless you for not getting side tracked.  Chapter VI should be out soon – I have **started** it, but not finished.  I'm hoping to send it for betaing on Saturday, but things rarely go as planned._

_Hallie_


	6. Chapter 6 - Egyptian Adventure

Spiritus aduro  
  
  
  
1.1 Part VI  
  
Ria was hot, tired and fed up. The trip from Romania to Egypt had been nothing but trouble. She and her nieces had bid goodbye to Charlie and Merri that morning, in the hope of making it to Cairo by lunchtime. Ria had soon realised that cross-country Apparating was a lot less troublesome than cross-country travel using a combination of Floo powder and Portkeys. The Wizarding States Conference of 1705 had instituted a law that meant anyone using a magical method for international travel (with the exception of the broomstick) was required by law to check in at a customs point at each border they crossed. This was troublesome enough if you were Apparating, but when you were relying on State-run Portkeys, the situation was much worse. International Portkeys ran from a countries' Central Portkey Station only. Unfortunately, it was very rare for a CPS and a customs point to be in the same place, which meant that once you had been through customs you were required to use Floo powder to get to the CPS. This added hours to your travel total time, and the attitude of some of the Portkey and Floo Staff didn't do anything to ease the journey.  
  
"Madam, I need to see your travel visa," one official had said. Ria had flashed her work permit for the dragon reserve at the woman. It was, after all, the sixth time her visa had been demanded in as many minutes.  
  
"This isn't a travel permit," the woman had said, sulkily.  
  
"Yes it is," Ria had replied patiently. "Look - 'in accordance with Worldwide Wizarding Law, this permit allows for its holder, Ariadne Olivia Rutherford' - that's me - 'to travel internationally, both for work and pleasure.' And then there's the signature of the Head of the Department of International Travel, and my employer's signature."  
  
"Have you got any proof of identity?" the woman, 'Julia' according to her nametag, demanded, silkily. Ria glared at her.  
  
"That is my proof of ID," she replied, fishing around inside her robes trying to find her Apparition License, while trying to keep half and eye on Livvy and Claire, who were being very good, considering the circumstances. Having found the license, she waved it at the official. "Look - Ariadne Olivia Rutherford. Me. Proof of Identity. May we go now?"  
  
"I need to see their travel visas." Julia replied, motioning to Claire and Olivia.  
  
"Look, honey, you clearly can't read," Ria said, losing patience, and all faith with Greek authorities - they were in Athens at the time. "It says that I am entitled to escort two under tens minus travel visas. That means that they," she gestured to her nieces, "can travel on my visa. Satisfied?"  
  
"I'll need to check with my manager," Julia informed her. Ria was fast reaching her limit.  
  
"Look," she hissed. "I have already spent three hours at a customs post in Bulgaria, followed by two hours waiting for the Portkey to get me here, thanks to some kind of blunder. I've already had six - six - of your personnel look at my visa, question my visa, demand proof of identity, blah blah blah. It is now," Ria looked at her watch, "two and a half hours since I arrived at this station, and I am beginning to get just a little cheesed off at your attitude. I have two young children with me, and if you don't get your act together, I can't guarantee that they won't blow the joint up." Claire and Olivia regarded their aunt in awe. Julia, however, wasn't impressed.  
  
"I'm sorry madam, but you will have to wait - we can't let you through until we are sure that you are who you say you are."  
  
"I'm sure," Ria replied sarcastically, accepting the inevitable with a bad grace.  
  
"Auntie Ri?"  
  
"What's up, Liv?"  
  
"Are we going to get to Egypt soon?"  
  
"I don't know, Livvy. It depends on whether they're any more efficient in Libya than they have been in Bulgaria and Greece. Probably not." Olivia nodded, solemnly. The three of them sat in silence.  
  
"Auntie Ria?"  
  
"Yes, Claire?"  
  
"Where's the funny lady gone?"  
  
"To find someone who knows what they're doing, I hope," Ria replied. Eventually, the manager appeared, and having examined Ria's documents closely, allowed her and her nieces to use the stations grate to get to Greece's CPS.  
  
2 It was now 8:45 and they were stuck at the customs point in Alexandria, waiting for yet another bumbling fool to ascertain that Ria wasn't some kind of terrorist, and that Livvy and Claire were not her disguised henchmen. Next year, Ria decided, grimly, she'd go home, and they could all spend a week in Devon.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Aunt Ri?" Olivia jolted Ria out of her reverie. They had finally made it through customs, and were now not-so-comfortably ensconced in the Egyptian equivalent of the Knight bus. Claire was sleeping in one of the large beds, but Livvy had clearly woken up.  
  
"Olivia?" Ria replied, smiling at the ragamuffin that was her niece. Livvy's hair had long since worked itself out of tidy pigtails, and she now made futile motions in an attempt to swipe it out of her eyes.  
  
"What's Bill like?" Livvy fixed Ria with large blue eyes that were uncannily like her own.  
  
"Well," Ria began, wondering just how to respond to her niece's idle remark, "I like him."  
  
"Really?!" Livvy looked excited. "Are you going to marry him and live happily ever after like Cinderella?" Ria couldn't help but smile at Livvy's earnestness.  
  
"I don't know, Liv," she replied honestly. "Sometimes I wonder if marriage is all it's hyped up to be." She was thinking about Aidan again. She couldn't help it - when marriage was mentioned she automatically thought of her ex-fiancé. Oh, she didn't love him any more - indeed, she sometimes wondered if she ever had - but he had hurt her awfully and she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to forgive him.  
  
"Grandma says that men and women should marry before they live together," Livvy informed her aunt. "But you co-rabbit with Uncle Charlie and you aren't married." Ria smiled.  
  
"Co-habit,' she corrected. "I know Grandma is a very wise woman, Livvy, but sometimes you have to make your own decisions. What do you think?"  
  
"I don't think it matters too much," Livvy replied, after careful consideration. Suddenly her expression changed. "Auntie Ri, what's it like to fall in love?" Ria looked at her, startled.  
  
"I suppose it's different for everyone, honey, but when you fall in love you'll know." Ria couldn't believe she was having this conversation with a seven year old. Out of the mouths of babes.  
  
"Have you never been in love?" Livvy demanded. "Only I heard Mummy and Auntie Becca saying that you loved Uncle Aidan once. But he's married to Auntie Gemma, so doesn't that mean he loves her?" Ria silently cursed her sisters for talking about the past in front of the future, and ignored the dull ache that it invoked even now.  
  
"I don't love Uncle Aidan in that way, Liv, don't you fret. You're quite right - he and Auntie Gemma are in love. Mummy and Auntie Becca were mistaken."  
  
"Well, that's what I told Claire," Livvy said, matter of factly. "She thought you had a broken heart like Rapunzel." Ria smiled at Livvy again.  
  
"No, Livvy, my heart is all in one piece, thank you very much, and I intend to keep it that way. Don't you or Claire worry about me."  
  
"I think you should marry Uncle Charlie," Livvy informed her, suddenly. "He's fun."  
  
"But I don't love Uncle Charlie, sweetheart."  
  
"You could fall in love with him. I think he'd be a great real uncle." Ria mussed Livvy's hair affectionately, inwardly marvelling at the child's rose-tinted outlook on life.  
  
* * * *  
  
Ria caught sight of Bill's distinctive Weasley hair long before he caught sight of her. Taking her nieces' hands, she hurried over to greet him.  
  
"Ria!" he exclaimed, grinning at her. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine, thanks," Ria informed him. "Bill, meet my nieces - Olivia and Claire. Girls, this is Bill."  
  
"He looks like Uncle Charlie," Livvy said, shrewdly.  
  
"That's because they're brothers, silly!" Claire told her, scathingly.  
  
"Well, Edward doesn't look like you," Livvy retorted.  
  
"No, but Mummy says he's the spitting image of Auntie Gemma," Claire was quick to inform her. Bill cleared his throat, and the two girls turned to stare at him once more.  
  
"Pleased to meet you," he said, offering Livvy his hand.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine," Livvy replied, causing her cousin and aunt to stare at her.  
  
"So, are you Auntie Ria's boyfriend?" Claire demanded, shaking Bill's hand vigorously. Ria rolled her eyes, marvelling at the one-track nature of her nieces' minds. It was enough for her mother to be trying to marry her off all the time - now it appeared her nieces were at it as well.  
  
"Kind of," Bill agreed. He turned to Ria. "Do you have everything?" Ria nodded, gesturing towards the pile of luggage at her feet.  
  
"So," she said, as they began to move. "How are we getting to wherever it is we're going, anyway?"  
  
"Ask no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Bill replied, cryptically. "You'll know soon enough." Intrigued, Ria followed him a short way down the street, and was amazed to see a rug floating in the air.  
  
"A flying carpet?" She raised an eyebrow. "I thought those were supposed to be illegal?"  
  
"In Britain they are," Bill replied. "Not here though." He hoisted Claire on to the carpet, and then repeated the action with Livvy, before offering his hand to Ria.  
  
"What about our stuff?" she demanded, doubtfully. In answer, he heaved their baggage on to the mat and it promptly disappeared.  
  
"Inbuilt mechanism similar to a car boot," he exclaimed, catching Ria's horrified look. "You can get on now." Ria did as she was told, and Bill hopped on after her. Ria studied the vibrant material with interest as Bill issued instructions.  
  
"Welcome to Bill's Brilliant Airways," he began. "Or Brilliant Bill's Airways, if you prefer. We hope you enjoy your flight. In order to do so, we would ask that you keep all appendages firmly on the carpet, and refrain from standing up throughout the journey. Thank you." Claire and Livvy regarded him with awe as the carpet began a steady ascent. Ria wasn't so sure that she liked this soft furnishings idea - she was certain that this Oriental form of transport couldn't possibly be safe. As if he could read her mind, Bill smiled at her.  
  
"It's perfectly safe, you know," he assured her. "Flying carpets have been around much longer than broomsticks." Ria smiled and nodded. She supposed he had a point, and there was something oddly soothing about this mode of transport. Her nieces clearly preferred the carpet to the Knight bus. Sighing contentedly, she gazed at the stars in the Egyptian sky.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
The flying carpet fluttered gently down until it was hovering just inches from the ground. Ria stepped off daintily, before helping Livvy and Claire to the ground. Bill retrieved their luggage and rolled their transport up.  
  
In front of them was a tent. At least, that was the way Ria would have described it. It was not a house like the one she shared with Charlie, but rather a mass of material magically anchored in the sand.  
  
"It's not as primitive as it looks," Bill hastened to inform her. "But it's not practical for us to build on the sand using bricks and mortar, even using magic. Besides, we move around so much that it's easier to take our home from pyramid to pyramid then it is to Apparate backwards and forwards." As he spoke he raised the tent's flap and Ria was amazed to see that he was right. The inside of the cotton structure was exactly like a house, right down to having a porch, hall and dividing walls. The hall itself was brightly decorated, the walls were the same orange as the Chudley Cannons' robes, and they were hung with patterned rugs. Claire and Livvy loved it. As they exclaimed over their new surroundings, a man and woman descended from the staircase. Bill smiled at them, and turned to Ria. Before he could say anything, however, Livvy squealed.  
  
"UNCLE TOM!!" she galloped up to the man, whose face broke into a delighted grin.  
  
"Liv?" he looked at her incredulously. "What on earth are you doing here?"  
  
"She's with me," Ria replied, politely, but there was a certain coldness in her tone that demanded an explanation.  
  
"And you are." the man demanded, a similar note in his own voice.  
  
"Ariadne Rutherford," Ria replied. "Livvy and Claire are my nieces."  
  
"Lucy's sister?" the man asked, raising his eyebrows. "How extraordinary. You see, Livvy is my niece too - I'm Thomas Kettleworth. Geoff's brother. But he never mentioned that you and Livvy were coming here."  
  
"He wouldn't have known," Ria replied, warming to him. "I just made Lucy promise to send Liv to me for a couple of weeks in the summer. Were you at the wedding? I don't recognise you." But even as she said it, she realised that there was something familiar about Tom - something that she couldn't quite place.  
  
"I wasn't," Tom replied, frowning slightly. "I made it to Liv's christening though - were you there?"  
  
"Not quite," Ria replied, ruefully. "Liv was born in the year that I did my OWL's, and Lucy and Geoff, in their wisdom, held the christening in term time. My parents decided that I would be better off at school."  
  
"I'm named after Auntie Ri though," Livvy hastily informed her uncle. "Olivia's her middle name, and she's my godmother just like you're my godfather."  
  
"Auntie Lucy and Uncle Geoff are mine," Claire piped up, not to be outdone. "And I'm named after my Grandma." Tom smiled at her.  
  
"Are you indeed?" he asked. He turned to Ria. "When Geoff told me that Liv and her cousin were inseparable, I didn't realise he meant it literally." Ria laughed, but before she could say anything further, Bill spoke.  
  
"Well, I'm glad that you two know each other," he observed, "but poor Katie is beginning to look a little left out. Ria, this is Katherine Bonniene. Kate, meet Ria."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Ria said, offering her hand to the young woman that Bill was gesturing towards. Katie was one of the most striking women that she had ever seen - her skin was milk white and her eyes the palest of blues, yet it was her hair that made her distinctive - long, glossy, wavy and jet black, in stark contrast with her skin. She reminded Ria of the girls she had known who were naturally blonde, and yet insisted on dying their hair a raven colour. Strangely, whilst this colour combination had looked odd on all of them, on Katherine Bonniene it looked completely natural and almost pretty.  
  
"Likewise," Katie replied, in a startlingly deep voice for someone with so elfin an appearance. "Bill's told us a lot about you."  
  
"Don't listen to him," Ria joked. "I'm a good girl really."  
  
"My sources dispute that claim," Bill told her, grinning.  
  
"You'd trust Charlie over me?" Ria asked, in mock hurt.  
  
"Naturally," Bill replied, complacently. "He is, after all, my brother."  
  
"No sibling rivalry in the Weasley family, then," Katie teased.  
  
"Don't count on it," Ria replied. "Some of the letters Charlie gets are awful - the things the twins do to Percy, the poor boy!"  
  
"Ah, Perce loves us really," Bill told her, lightly. "He just needs to lighten up a bit on occasion."  
  
As they were talking, Ria and her nieces followed the three Gringotts employees into a large room with a selection of mismatched yet comfortable seats to chose from. Ria marvelled at how humble an exterior could house such grandeur within, for there was no doubt that some of the items in the room were very valuable antiques. She mentioned this to Katie, who smiled at her.  
  
"You wouldn't believe where we found some of this stuff - when I came out her in '88 there was nothing. Absolutely nothing - Bill was living in some strange hostel, and the goblins were all for Tom and I doing the same. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm no snob - I've slummed it with the best of them, but the conditions they expected us to survive in - it was disgusting. So, I suggested we create our own home if the goblins weren't going to help us, and so we did. I think I overheard Bill telling you that the house is a tent for practical reasons, but really it's all financial. We could afford a tent, we couldn't afford a house, and as it turns out, the tent works better than a house would anyway. But the antiques.well, a lot of them we found on Muggle rubbish sites. At first we didn't realise that we'd hit a jackpot - we needed furniture and didn't have enough money to buy brand new stuff - remember that Tom and I had only just left Hogwarts at this point. Then we came across all sorts of bits and pieces that came up as good as new with the aid of a Scouring Charm. The rest, as they say, is history."  
  
3 "Auntie Ri," Claire began, doubtfully, "what's a batique?"  
  
"Batique? Do you mean antique? It's something really old. Grandpa Alex has got lots of antiques. Next time you visit him and Grandma ask him to show them to you."  
  
"Ah, yes, the famous Rutherford family heirlooms," Tom said, causing Ria to look at him strangely. "What? Geoff's told me all about your father's stash, including the singing bijou. Highly amusing, and worth millions according to him." Ria laughed.  
  
"I used to play with that when I was a little girl, you know. Dad always said that it was a wonder it didn't have a nervous breakdowns, the number of songs I forced upon it."  
  
"What's a bijou?" Olivia demanded.  
  
"It's a bottom washer," Ria replied, seriously. "Grandpa can demonstrate for you when he shows you it."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Bill said, dryly. A young local put her head around the door, and Bill nodded at her.  
  
"That was our dinner cue," he told the assorted company. "Let us vacate to the dining room."  
  
"You have a chef?" Ria demanded, incredulously as she sat in the chair Bill held out for her.  
  
"Not quite," Bill replied. "When we're all busy, Elsie does the cooking. She's only sixteen, so really she should be at school, but her parents abandoned her when she was a small child."  
  
"We found her when we were furniture hunting in the slums," Tom added. "You don't want to know what she was doing to stay alive - it made me feel sick. We sort of adopted her. Now she lives with us. When she's served up she'll eat with us too. She does speak English, but she's wary of strangers, and Arabic will always be her first language. She insists on cooking and cleaning in return for our 'kindness' as she puts it."  
  
"I had to give her lessons first though," Katie ploughed in. "Poor kid didn't have a clue how to work an oven, and the slop she produced the first time we let her loose in the kitchen. I'm ever grateful that she's such a quick learner." As if on cue the girl entered again, this time carrying a stack of plates. When they had been distributed she left the room again, and returned with a steaming dish full of some kind of soup, and a large loaf of fresh, crusty bread. At her signal they all tucked in with healthy appetite, Claire and Livvy included.  
  
* * * *  
  
The next morning, Ria was rudely disturbed from pleasant slumbers by someone bouncing on her bed. Mumbling incoherently she fumbled for the light switch, and was not surprised to find her elder niece performing acrobatics in front of her.  
  
"Livvy!" she groaned. "What time is it?"  
  
"Half past seven," Livvy replied, proudly. She had only recently fully mastered the art of reading a watch and was always willing to demonstrate her skill. "Time to get up! Come on Aunt Ri! CLAIRE!!" Livvy yelled for her cousin, who peered around the doorway. "It's okay, she's awake now."  
  
"Good," Claire replied, happily. "Are we going to see the pyramids with Uncle Bill today, Auntie Ri?"  
  
"We can't go anywhere until she's up, silly," Livvy told her. "Help me," Ria was suddenly jerked into a sitting position by two small pairs of hands.  
  
"Okay, okay!" she exclaimed. "Claire, to answer your question, yes we are going to see the pyramids with Uncle Bill today. Or rather, we're going to see one of them. There are a lot of pyramids, you know. But we're not going anywhere at half past seven in the morning when we're still in our pyjamas. Let's go and find breakfast, and we'll worry about the Mummies later."  
  
Ria heaved herself out of bed and into her dressing gown, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she did so, and then followed her nieces - who were far too energetic, considering the time of morning - downstairs.  
  
"Nice PJ's," Tom remarked as she sat down at the table and helped herself to cereal. Ria glanced down at the dancing teddy bears.  
  
"Thank you," she replied, choosing to ignore the humour in his tone. "What are you doing today?"  
  
"Working," he replied. "We can't all be like Bill and skive off, you know, or nothing would ever be done."  
  
"I heard that, and I resent the implication," Bill told him, appearing in the doorway. "I deserve this holiday, and we could hardly leave our guests on their own."  
  
"There are perfectly good tour guides, you know," Katie teased from her end of the table.  
  
"Tour guides?!" Bill sounded horrified. "Have you any idea how they misinform the general public? Besides, they're Muggles, the lot of them. Every time they come past we have to pretend we're on an archaeological dig. It never ceases to amaze me that they don't realise we're not equipped for digging."  
  
* * * *  
  
"So, are we all ready then?" Bill demanded. The four of them - Bill, Ria, Claire and Livvy - were just about to embark on their pyramid trip. The two little girls nodded solemnly, and Ria smiled her assent. "We'd better make use of this again then, hadn't we," Bill told them, unfurling the flying carpet once more, and helping Claire to board it.  
  
They had been on the carpet for a while when Claire and Livvy announced that they were bored. Patiently, Bill explained that the pyramid they were visiting was a long way away. As the scenery was sand, sand and more sand, he suggested that they relieve their boredom by singing, which they did with gusto.  
  
"Somewhere over the rainbow,  
  
Way up high  
  
There's a land that I dreamt of  
  
Once in a lullaby.  
  
Somewhere over the rainbow,  
  
Skies are blue  
  
And the dreams that you dare  
  
To dream really do come true.  
  
Someday I'll wish upon a star  
  
And wake up where the clouds  
  
Are far behind me -  
  
Where troubles melt like lemon drops  
  
And way above the chimney tops  
  
That's where you'll find me.  
  
Somewhere over the rainbow  
  
Bluebirds fly  
  
Birds fly over the rainbow  
  
Why then oh why can't I?"  
  
Bill looked at Ria inquisitively as the unknown words and melody filled his ears. She smiled to herself.  
  
"It's from the Wizard of Oz," she explained. "They love it, although they think it's unfair that wizards get better Muggle press than witches. Still, you can't have everything, and anything is better than Love is Like a Cruciatus Curse."  
  
"You really don't like Celestina Warbeck, do you?" Ria simply looked at him. "No, I didn't think so. We're nearly there, by the way."  
  
They dismounted ten minutes later, in front of a rather impressive pyramid structure. Ria found the panoramic view quite breathtaking, and even her nieces were speechless for once - a very rare occurrence in their case.  
  
"Wow," Ria breathed. "It's fantastic."  
  
"Why thank you," Bill replied, as if he had been responsible for all of it. Ria hit him playfully, and he responded in kind. Livvy and Claire watched, fascinated, as their Aunt and her friend rolled around in the sand.  
  
"Such a good example you set your nieces," Bill told Ria when they were composed once more. Ria stuck her tongue out at him, making the children giggle at their aunt's apparent lack of decorum.  
  
"Don't be such an old man," she told him. "Now take us into this yellow monstrosity that we might experience the grandeur of a pharaoh's final resting place."  
  
Bill led them into the pyramid at a reasonably slow pace so that Livvy and Claire didn't have to run to keep up. When they were far enough inside that no one other than themselves could hear them, he began to explain Ancient Egypt.  
  
"The first thing you need to understand about these pyramids is that the Egyptians were very religious when they were built, and they emphasised the after life a lot more than the mortal life. What you did in the mortal life would influence where you spent the afterlife, and it was to that end that the pharaohs had such grand pyramids built.  
  
Ancient Egyptian mythology suggests that only the ocean existed at first - there was no land, just sea. Then the Ra, the Sun, came out of an egg that appeared on the surface of the water. Ra had four children, Shu and Keb, who were gods, and Tefnut and Nut, who were goddesses. Shu and Tefnut became the atmosphere and they stood on Keb, who became the earth, and raised up Nut, who became the sky. Ra was the big chief type person who ruled over them all. Later, Keb and Nut had two sons - Set and Osiris, and two daughters, Isis and Nephthys. Osiris succeeded Ra as the king of the earth, and he was helped by Isis, who became his sister wife. Unfortunately, Set wasn't too keen on his brother, so he killed him. Isis embalmed Osiris' body with the help of Anubis, who thus became the god of embalming. Isis used powerful charms to resurrect Osiris, who became king of the netherworld, the land of the dead. Isis and Osiris' son, Horus, later fought and defeated Set, and became the king of the earth. And that is a pretty simplified version of Ancient Egypt's ideas about creation."  
  
"Cool!" Livvy breathed, ecstatically. "Much more interesting than all of that evocation stuff."  
  
"Evolution, Liv," Ria corrected her, absent-mindedly. "I had no idea that Egyptian myths were so bloody, Bill. In History of Magic, Binns was far too keen on the goblins to go into any great detail about exotic history and culture."  
  
"Ria, even if he had the chances are you wouldn't have taken it in. This is Binns we're talking about here!"  
  
"Who cares about a ghost?" Claire asked, irreverently. "I want to know about pyramids!" Ria stared at her. She was pretty sure that she hadn't been that keen on history when she was six. Still, each to their own, and she supposed that she couldn't complain at the child's thirst for knowledge.  
  
"Pyramids. Well, pyramids were usually built when the Nile flooded - the Nile is the longest river in the world. They built them then because they couldn't farm when the river was flooded. Some people think that the pyramids were built by slaves - forced labour, you know - but that wasn't actually the case. There's no evidence of any type of military authority on the ancient pictures depicting when they were built, and they suggest that the work was not too harsh - hard, yes, but harsh - not really. People would be proud to have a hand in building the pyramids, not only were they for the Pharaoh, who was seen as a sort of living god, but it was also a tomb, and the afterlife was very important to Egyptians. Some of the stone used to make the pyramids came from places hundreds of miles from the building site. It was hauled to the Nile and then floated up the river, before being pulled to its destination. Herodotus - someone who was around at the time - says it took about twenty years to build a pyramid. At the moment we're in the Valley of the Kings, where all the pharaohs were entombed in their pyramids. If you look carefully at the walls when we're moving through the pyramid then you'll be able to see some of the hieroglyphics that were painted when it was built."  
  
Bill turned to shepherd them on, along the way pointing out wall paintings that would be of particular interest to them. Ria was so fascinated by them that she began to relax her guard, and took her eyes of Claire and Olivia for a few minutes to study the pictures. When she looked up again, the others had gone, and she was left alone in a pyramid that she knew nothing about with four possible routes to follow. She shivered. She had been worried that either Claire or Livvy would get lost in the huge monuments. Not for a moment had she considered that perhaps she would be left behind. Her decision to pick a path was probably not the most sensible choice she had ever made, but make it she did.  
  
* * * *  
  
Bill didn't realise that Ria was missing until Livvy bought her absence to his attention. As soon as he learnt of her disappearance, he hastened back in an attempt to find her, but by this time it was too late, and she had already gone. In the end he had no choice but to take the two girls home without their aunt, and then form a search party. The pyramids were perilous places - ancient Egyptian wizards had done a good job on curses, and leaving Ria in one overnight was something that he felt would be a bad idea. Ultimately her survival lay in a race against time, and he could only hope that he, Tom, and Katie could win.  
  
Again, muchas gracias to all and sundry who reviewed the last chapter. There's still the will she won't she factor in this, I'm afraid. And there you all were, thinking I'd stopped with the Which Weasley fiasco. Sorry, but this triangle is just too much fun! *hides as everyone reading mobs her.* LOL And I have to share my lovely beta readers final comment on this with you all - Arabella, you made my day with this one.  
  
'And if Charlie finds out Bill lost his best friend, he'll curse him to the ground!'  
  
Quite right too. Thanks to Andy and Arabella for betaing, the next chapter will be ready soonish - it all depends on what school is like. I was enjoying a lull in homework when I wrote this, but as I'm a genius and take four essay based subjects, there's no guarantee that I won't have hundreds of essays to complete in the near future, especially as 'Progress Tests' are coming up. Believe me, leaving Ria in a curse filled pyramid for three months is not something I want to do, so hopefully it won't happen.  
  
( Hallie 


	7. Chapter 7 - Pressure in a Pyramid

Spiritus aduro  
  
  
  
1.1 Part VII  
  
Charlie missed Ria. She'd been gone for the grand total of four days, but he missed her. It was strange, really - when she spent the odd week with her family he hardly noticed her absence, but now the empty seat at the breakfast table was painfully obvious.  
  
"She is coming back, you know," Merri informed him, as he played with a bowl of Cornflakes.  
  
"Whatever made you think I thought she wasn't?" Charlie demanded.  
  
"Oh, come off it Charlie, you've had a face like a wet weekend ever since Ria and the girls left. Anyone would think you'd had your left arm cut off."  
  
"Not true."  
  
"I beg to differ. And I know for a fact that if Ri were here she would -" but Charlie didn't find out whatever it was that Ria would do, for at that point Ezara nudged Merri gently with her nose, and nearly poked the poor girl's eye out. "What is it, Ez?" Merri demanded, fielding off another prod. The little unicorn looked towards the window, her lilac eyes bright with intelligence.  
  
"It's an owl, Merri," Charlie said, following Ezara's gaze. "It can't get in. The window's closed."  
  
"Merlin only knows why, Charlie! It's worse in here than in any of Professor Sprout's greenhouses!" She got up and released the catch, allowing both the owl and a refreshing breeze to enter the room. The owl deposited a piece of parchment in front of Charlie, ruffled its feathers, and left.  
  
"That was a wizigram owl," he told Merri, at the same time wondering who would send him such a thing. They were practically obsolete nowadays, only used in dire circumstances when a normal owl just wouldn't arrive in time.  
  
"What does it say?" she demanded, looking concerned. Charlie unfolded the parchment slowly, a sense of foreboding descending on him.  
  
"'RIA LOST IN PYRAMID STOP NEED HELP STOP COME AS SOON AS YOU CAN STOP LOVE BILL'"  
  
"At the risk of sounding incredibly stupid, how on earth did Ria manage to get lost in a pyramid?" Merri demanded.  
  
"I have absolutely no idea," Charlie replied. "But I swear, if anything happens to her."  
  
"You'll what? Curse Bill? How's that going to help?"  
  
"She's stuck in a bloody pyramid! Where's my bag?"  
  
"I have no idea.Charlie! CHARLIE! What are you doing?" Charlie had dashed off in search of his travelling bag, and was throwing sundry items into it in a frenzy.  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing? Bill wants help, and he's damned well going to get it. Have you any idea how dangerous the Ancient Egyptians were? Where's my broom?"  
  
"You're flying?" Merri had clearly never heard anything more insane in her life.  
  
"No, I want to sweep the floor. Of course I'm flying! It's the quickest way to get to Egypt."  
  
"What about Apparating?"  
  
"I'll spend Merlin knows how many hours waiting at customs points if I Apparate, and you know it!"  
  
"It will still be quicker than flying, Charlie. If you fly then you're not likely to get there for at least a day; a broom just can't go fast enough to be more efficient than Apparition."  
  
"It can." Charlie saw Merri open her mouth to protest, but continued before she had a chance to. "There's a charm you can use. It's a bit dodgy sometimes, which is why it isn't used very often, but if I use it then I can be there in about eight hours. I could spend that time waiting at the Romanian customs point, and you know it."  
  
"Dodgy?" Merri asked suspiciously. "How dodgy? Splinching yourself is not going to help the situation."  
  
"I'll be fine, and anyway, splinching is related to Apparating and Disapparating. Don't fuss, Merri."  
  
"You're really going to do this?" Charlie shot her a withering look. "Well good luck, then," she continued. "I'll tell Jon where you've gone."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
* * * *  
  
Unlike most wizards, Charlie was rather fond of long distance flying. As a child it was something that he had longed for, but his mother had banned them from straying out of the back garden for as long as Voldemort had been terrorising the wizarding world. It was one of the reasons that Charlie really, really wanted to give the Dark Lord a punch. Of course, a punch would have very little effect on someone of his power, but it would make Charlie feel a lot better.  
  
Thankfully, Harry Potter had vanquished Voldemort when Charlie was thirteen and in his third year at Hogwarts, although Merri wasn't convinced of this fact, and Charlie was beginning to doubt it too, after the letter that Percy had sent him. He had written to Ron in the hope of getting a first hand account, but all Ron would say was that Professor Dumbledore had made them promise that they wouldn't tell anyone what had happened. Right now, though, Ron was the least of his worries, and even the intense anxiety he felt for Ria subsided somewhat as the wind ruffled his hair, and the air currents supported him. There was nothing quite like flying to take your mind off of your problems.  
  
* * * *  
  
It was strange how quickly you became close to someone, Charlie reflected. He'd known Ria for nearly four years now, but it felt like forever. She was like his other sister; the sister that teased him about his romantic problems, laughed over shared jokes and commiserated with him when things went wrong. The bubbling melody of her laughter was as familiar to him as his own, and he couldn't picture life without her, even if she couldn't cook for toffee. He remembered the first time he had met her.  
  
"Excuse me?" a small hand had tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
"I'm looking for a Charlie Weasley.?" He'd turned round to get his first look at those dark blue eyes that seemed to draw a second glance, even now. They had been worried-looking that day, murky pools of anxiety. At the time he hadn't realised how they would sharpen when she was irritated or amused, and sparkle when she was teasing.  
  
"That would be me," he'd responded, and she had smiled at him, tentatively.  
  
"I'm Ariadne Rutherford. I've been told that you'll show me the ropes." He'd viewed it as a chore at the time. Usually Jon would take care of any new personnel, but Jon had been busy that week, and for some reason had chosen Charlie to deputise for him. Charlie had never thanked him for that particular favour. Back then Ria had been a complete enigma. She was eighteen years old, and there was an impenetrable sadness in her eyes that had intrigued him. They had been practically inseparable for her first week - she had been learning the ropes and leaned heavily on him for guidance, and strangely her dependency had not bothered him. In that week he learnt that she had a wicked sense of humour, and there were certain topics that you simply didn't broach with her. Over the years she had divulged some of her secrets, but she still played her cards very close to her chest, and Charlie had long since learnt better than to question her in matters of the heart. Bill was the first boyfriend she had had since she had met him, and Charlie couldn't help but wonder whether one of her reasons for choosing his brother had been the detachment of a long distance relationship. He knew better than to suggest this to Ria though. There were definitely some mouldy skeletons in that particular cupboard.  
  
They had bought their house a year and a half ago. Ria, daughter of a nobleman, had never been overly enamoured with the accommodation provided by those in charge of the reserve, and over the years Charlie had learnt that the flats and huts that they offered made for very little privacy. They had clubbed together and their current living arrangements were the result. Ria was, for all intents and purposes, his Romanian family, and he was damned if a pyramid would take her away from him.  
  
* * * *  
  
A very agitated looking young man greeted Charlie when he arrived at Bill's 'house'. Privately Charlie thought that 'house' was a bit rich. It definitely looked like a tent from where he was standing.  
  
"You must be Charlie," the dark haired man greeted him.  
  
"Who's asking?" he demanded, warily. Bill had told him that there were some unsavoury characters in Egypt, and he had every intention of making it back in one piece.  
  
"Tom Kettleworth. I work with Bill."  
  
"So you'll know about Ria, then?"  
  
"I know that we've lost her, yes." Charlie fought to keep control of his temper.  
  
"Well you'd better un-lose her then, hadn't you!" he responded, through gritted teeth.  
  
"Steady on!" Tom said, raising his hands in protest. "I want to find her as much as you do!"  
  
"I doubt that highly," Charlie snarled.  
  
"Look, mate," a dangerous note had crept into Tom's tone. "My niece is distraught because we can't find her favourite auntie. I do not want to waste my time arguing about who wants to find Ria more when we could be doing a lot more good if we actually were looking for her." Reluctantly, Charlie had to concede that the man had a point.  
  
"Where's Bill?" he asked, more courteously.  
  
"Looking for Ri," came the curt reply. "I expect you need feeding. Elsie should have something ready, and then we can join Bill and Katie."  
  
"Just how long has she been missing?" Charlie asked, suspiciously.  
  
"Three days."  
  
"Three days? Is that even legal?" Tom raised his eyebrows at Charlie. "Sorry, sorry. She's like my little sister, you know. I get overprotective sometimes."  
  
"I noticed," the dark haired man said dryly. "Hurry up and eat that food, will you? Livvy and Claire are beginning to suspect that this is serious, and I really don't want to ruin the poor kids' holiday any more than is absolutely necessary." Charlie tucked into the plate of food in front of him, even though he had very little real appetite for anything.  
  
"What about Ria?" he demanded. "She won't have any food or water."  
  
"She had their picnic hamper. She'll be okay for nourishment. It's the curses that we're worried about."  
  
"Thanks for the reassurance," Charlie replied, clearing the plate and ignoring the distasteful glances that the girl who served the food was sending in his direction. "Can we please go now?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
* * * *  
  
"Tom!" a pretty young woman exclaimed when they arrived at a pretty average- looking pyramid. "And you must be Charlie! I'm Katie. Bill's still poking about in there like a lunatic, but I thought I'd better wait to feed you his instructions. Charlie, you're to stick with Tom. It's better to be in twos when dealing with Egyptian relics, believe me. Now, we know that she's definitely not in certain places, so we're focusing on the unexplored areas. The problem with this is that they are, as I say, unexplored, and therefore new to us as well. It slows us down somewhat because you never know what curses you might come across. This particular pharaoh wasn't too bad, but in some pyramids you have to watch every single step you take, and I think one person lost in a pyramid is quite enough without having to worry about getting any others to medical aid. Do as Tom tells you at all times. This is not the place for amateur heroics. Having said that, we need to be as fast as possible. There's no guarantee that Ria is staying still, and if she's moving then she's making finding her an awful lot more difficult. Although, after three days in a place like this she's probably too tired to. At times like these I really wish we had enchanted maps of every pyramid we've explored. Having said that, I'm not sure I want to know what goes on in some of these places. We rendezvous at eight this evening. I hope you're fully rested, Charlie, because this could be pretty exhausting for you. Of course, you work with dragons, so I suppose you're used to hard work. Off you go, boys!" Katie winked at Charlie, causing him to look at her like she was mad. Didn't she know that this was not the time to be flirting? He kept as close to Tom as he could. It wasn't that the pyramid scared him, more that he didn't want to be splayed on the floor when they eventually got Ria out of here.  
  
"Do you think she'd yell?" Tom asked as they tentatively walked down a passageway.  
  
"You what?"  
  
"You know, shout? Do you think Ria would? You know her better than I do."  
  
"Probably not," Charlie said, thinking about it. "She's not stupid, and this pyramid is rather large. There's no guarantee that we'd be able to hear her, or that the roof wouldn't cave in, or something. Those Egyptians were mad."  
  
"So how long have you known Ria, then?" Tom asked. Charlie found it rather disconcerting that he thought this was an appropriate time for small talk, but as they were actually doing something to help his friend this time, he answered the question anyway.  
  
"Four years. We live together."  
  
"But she's seeing your brother."  
  
"Is there a problem with that?"  
  
"There would be if she was seeing my brother."  
  
"Unless I misheard you earlier, your brother is married to her sister, so it wouldn't happen."  
  
"Don't count on it. Geoff and I are only half-brothers. Same father different mothers. Geoff can't stand Ma though - she also happens to be his aunt. She and Pa had an affair while Pa was still married to Aunt Fernella."  
  
"That's awful!" Charlie was genuinely shocked. How could sisters do that to each other?  
  
"It's not that bad. Pa reckons he was always in love with Ma, but my Grandfather insisted that he marry Aunt Fernella, and Geoff was the product of that relationship. But love is love, or so Ma says, so they did what they had to. Of course, they were ostracised from society when it all came out. According to some of the old biddies he got Ma pregnant while he was still married to Aunt Fernella, but no one's ever been able to prove that. Anyway, when Aunt Fernella died they got married and had me, but Geoff despises Ma. Can't say I blame him, to be honest. He and I get on well enough." Charlie was shocked that a virtual stranger would tell him so much about his family history. On the other hand, it was an interesting story. Twisted, but interesting.  
  
"What's that?" Charlie demanded, a white flash catching his eye. On further inspection they discovered it was Ria's handkerchief.  
  
"She's clever, you've got to give her that. We're obviously going in the right direction. I didn't realise that people still carried handkerchiefs in this day and age, though."  
  
"Her father is an aristocrat. Obviously the upper classes have some habits that the rest of us view as inane," Charlie responded. Tom laughed.  
  
"Have you ever met Alex Rutherford?" he asked.  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"Because I have, and anyone less like an aristocrat is hard to come across."  
  
"Look, let's not complain if one of Ria's quirks helps us to find her, okay?" Charlie said, fed up of this virtual stranger laughing at him.  
  
"Where's your sense of humour? We will find her, you know. It's more than our lives are worth not to."  
  
* * * *  
  
Ria definitely wasn't stupid, Charlie reflected, two hours later. At odd intervals she had left little trinkets - nothing valuable, but things that were instantly recognisable as hers - to guide them to wherever it was she ended up. Charlie wasn't sure whether she was the brightest, though. After all, why hadn't she just stopped and waited for them to find her? Then he realised that the narrow passage they were walking down was hardly suitable for sleeping in.  
  
"Helloooo?" the call echoed around much as Charlie and Tom's footsteps did.  
  
"RIA?" Charlie yelled. "RIA, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!?"  
  
"No need to bring the roof down," Tom muttered. Charlie glared at him.  
  
"Charlie?" came a distant voice. Charlie started, his heart thudding. It was her - the voice was as faint as a whisper on the wind but he would recognise it anywhere. He clutched Tom's arm, gesturing at him to stand still and be quiet.  
  
"Ria," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Look, Ri, we're trying to find you."  
  
"Charlie." Her voice reminded him of a very small Ginny after she had had a nightmare. "I'm scared." That she would admit fear was indication enough of her state of mind. This was the same woman that braved fire- breathing dragons without batting an eyelid. Ria was no longer Ria. She was alone and defenceless, like a frightened child who needed his help. An age-old instinct to protect his loved ones raced through his veins more powerful than anything he had ever experienced. He had to get to her. He began to run. He knew he could find her. Somehow he instinctively knew where she was. Her admission of fear was all it took. His feet pounded against the stone floor. Dimly he was aware of Tom yelling at him to wait. He didn't care. He came to an abrupt halt on rounding a corner and walking headlong into a sphinx. It took all he had not to explode.  
  
"Dammit, move! MOVE!" he yelled, completely forgetting all that he had learnt about sphinxes in those long ago Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.  
  
"Charlie!" Ria screamed. Charlie was dimly aware of Tom breathing heavily at his side.  
  
"You.you.have a.riddle?" Tom panted.  
  
"Yes, traveller.  
  
Often I go to war with the waves and fight against the wind.  
  
I fight against both of them when I'm buried by the foam and go to seek the earth.  
  
If I stay still then I am mighty in the battle  
  
If I flee from their pulling then I have failed  
  
They want to carry off the thing that I keep safe.  
  
I defeat them if my tail holds strong and if the stones of the earth hold me up firmly.  
  
What is my name?" Charlie glared at the sphinx. Whose brilliant idea had it been to put the blasted creature there, anyway? He asked the creature to repeat the riddle several times so he could memorise it, but still no flash of brilliance came to him. He looked at Tom helplessly.  
  
"Don't look at me. You're the Magical Creatures Man."  
  
"You're supposed to deal with these things as part of your job, so do something!" Charlie said, barely restraining himself from throwing a punch at Tom. He was on edge with anxiety. Obviously his companion realised this.  
  
"Give us a clue, eh?" Tom coaxed the creature. Charlie looked at him in astonishment. Not only had Katie been flirting with him at an inappropriate time earlier, Tom was now doing the same with the sphinx. Mr Kettleworth needed serious medical assistance.  
  
"I am afraid that is impossible, traveller. My kind is bound by certain rules. I am allowed to help you only by reciting the riddle. I do not solve it. That is for you alone."  
  
"Whatever floats your boat," Tom replied nonchalantly. Charlie, who had been feverishly wracking his brain, gave a sudden shout.  
  
"Hey!" he yelled. "That's it! Boats!" Tom gave him a look that spoke volumes. Clearly he thought Charlie had lost it.  
  
"You what?"  
  
"Boats. Anchors. The answer is anchor."  
  
"I won't ask how you know that," Tom said, shrugging. "If you want to be eaten then so be it. Try it."  
  
"Think about it," said Charlie, feeling exceptionally brilliant. "'Often I go to war with the waves and fight against the wind.' It has to travel to the very bottom of the ocean, or whatever. 'If I flee from their pulling then I have failed'; if an anchor comes loose the boat will be lost. 'I defeat them if my tail holds strong and if the stones of the earth hold me up firmly'. It has to be anchor, it has to be." Tom nodded. "The answer is anchor," Charlie told the sphinx, confidently, and the large creature bowed to him before moving aside. Huddled up on the floor was a sight that caused Charlie's heart to leap. There she was, as white as a ghost with huge dark circles under her eyes.  
  
"Charlie!" she exclaimed, and he was shocked to see tears running down her face as she threw herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over, not that he cared. She was safe. That was all that mattered. He held her tightly, muttering soothing words, words that meant nothing and everything. It was all okay. The nightmare was over. Tom just stood and watched as the two of them let out the emotions that had been building ever since Charlie had learnt of Ria's dilemma.  
  
* * * *  
  
The candlelight flickered, illuminating the faces around the table, the atmosphere was one of cosy togetherness, and the food was absolutely amazing. Charlie was thinking about stealing Elsie from Bill - Ria and Merri were admitted failures in the kitchen, and occasionally he missed simply having his food placed in front of him in the manner he had become accustomed to whilst living in Molly Weasley's care. Claire and Olivia had long since been put to bed after an emotional reunion with their aunt, and the four adults were enjoying a companionable meal. Ria was explaining just how it was that she had ended up incarcerated in a pyramid in the first place.  
  
"So, anyway, after Bill had abandoned me-"  
  
"I did not abandon you!" Bill protested.  
  
"You did too! There I was, being all academic and actually trying to learn something, and I turned around and you'd gone and left me, taking my nieces with you, I hasten to add, so I thought I'd follow you."  
  
"Right," Charlie began, assessing the situation as he saw it. "So, you were alone inside a pyramid, and you decided to go off exploring on the off chance that you might find Bill and the girls, and never mind that pyramids are dangerous places, and with every step you took you risked being blown to kingdom come."  
  
"That's about it," Ria nodded cheerfully.  
  
"Just checking."  
  
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, so Bill had left me and I didn't want to lose Claire and Livvy - I know what Olivia is like, take your eye off her for ten minutes and you're likely to need a search party to find her again-"  
  
"I wonder where she gets that particular trait from?" Charlie shot, sarcastically.  
  
"I have no idea," Ria replied, innocently. "Obviously not wanting to lose my six year old niece in the big scary pyramid I decided to make my merry way to find her. I must have taken a wrong turning or something, and it didn't take me long to realise I didn't have a clue where I was. It didn't bother me all that much until I took a step forward and nearly ended up going to the little village in the sky. Those curses pack a good punch, I can tell you. I must have been hit by debris or something, because the next thing I knew I had a splitting headache and was half buried under a lovely pile of rubble, which, by the way, I moved by hand. Didn't dare move it by wand - who knew what other curses were placed on the joint. It was about then that I realised I was in a spot of bother-"  
  
"And that's the understatement of the century," Bill interrupted. "Remind me never to take you on a sightseeing tour again."  
  
"Oh, very funny," Ria shot back.  
  
"Hush," Katie told Bill, imperiously. "Carry on, Ria, I'm listening."  
  
"A spot of bother," Ria repeated, "but I thought it might be a good idea to move before the whole pyramid collapsed on me, so off I trotted. And I got a bit tired, and realised that if I kept moving all the time then it would be well nigh on impossible to find me, so I thought leaving strategically placed bits and bobs might give you a bit of a clue as to my whereabouts. Well, I would have stayed still at that point, but the passage was rather narrow and I didn't fancy my chances sleeping there, so I thought I'd try and find an anteroom. And I did, only then the sphinx appeared and I was stuck, which really didn't make my day. And eventually you found me." There was a short silence as Ria's audience absorbed her story. Charlie was the one to break it.  
  
"Right. So, Ria, what have you learnt from this experience?" Ria gave him an angelic grin before replying.  
  
"Next time I go exploring I'm taking a hard hat and my nail file. It gets boring when you're waiting for an heroic rescue." Charlie glared at he, before relenting as the room filled with infectious laughter.  
  
* * * *  
  
Charlie liked Katherine Bonniene. A lot. She was both pretty and intelligent, and she also seemed to like him. A lot. And he was flattered. It wasn't every day a woman of her calibre made him an offer, as she had done after dinner when they had left Ria and Bill to a lovey- dovey reunion. Actually, he didn't get many offers, full stop. Well, if he was honest he had a bit of a reputation at the reserve for being a love them and leave them kind of guy, which wasn't, strictly speaking, true. Unfortunately, those people who knew that it wasn't true also suspected that he held a secret candle for Ariadne, which also wasn't true. He liked Ria, certainly. He even loved her, but not in the way that they thought. No, Ria was definitely sister material. Katie, on the other hand, was relationship material. And Charlie was very tempted to take her up on her offer. Tempted, but not quite swayed. And as was the case in Romania, he went to Ria to discuss the situation, Ria being his relationship guru and never mind that she had the love life of a nun. Or had had the love life of a nun. He supposed that now she did have a love life, although from his perspective, Bill was as good as a convent if not better. But then, Bill was his brother so he was obliged to think that.  
  
And so, there they were, Ria sitting with her knees under the bedclothes and drawn up under her chin, Charlie leaning against the footboard his eyes fixed on hers as she frowned thoughtfully.  
  
"So, do you like her?" she prodded, gently.  
  
"Ria!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Okay, okay! You like her. Well that's a start, I suppose." There was a pause as Ria thought some more. "Charlie, when I've given you advice have you ever actually followed it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Right. So would you mind explaining to me just why it is we go through this ritual every time you're interested in a girl, or she's interested in you?"  
  
"Because it makes me feel better," he told her firmly. "Besides, that's your duty as my best friend. To listen to all my romantic problems, solve them, and then not say I told you so when I don't take your advice. Also, I like your bedroom more than mine, and those pyjamas suit you." Charlie ducked as Ria threw her pillow at him. "What? Now if you said something like that to me, I'd be flattered."  
  
"Yes, Charlie, dear, you're missing the crucial point. I am not you, and I am not flattered by personal remarks. Kindly remember that I'm going out with your brother, would you?" Ria grinned at him. That was the real reason why he liked these little pep talks. They meant that he and Ria could throw insults at one another well on into the night, probably not come to a satisfactory conclusion, but at least each knew that the other was there for them.  
  
"Right, so, Katie," Ria said, once more.  
  
"Shhh!" Charlie hissed. "Not so loud! She'll hear you!"  
  
"Ah, isn't that cute?" Ria smirked. "So what if she does. At least she knows that you're thinking about her."  
  
"That makes me feel so much better," Charlie replied, dryly.  
  
"Good, it was meant to. And would you mind moving to the left slightly, only you're a bit bony, and my feet are dead."  
  
"Yes, your holiness." He did as she asked, and then looked at her expectantly. "So.? What do I do?"  
  
"There are a number of options available to you," Ria began, primly, sounding a lot more like a bank manager than a dragon researcher. "A, you ask her out. The chances are that she'll say yes, because she's the one that's been making all the moves, not you. If she says no, well, then you don't need to worry any more, because she's not interested. And before you mention your ego, egos heal very quickly. Everything goes hunky-dory and eventually the two of you get married and give your mother the grandchildren she desperately longs for." It was Charlie's turn to throw the pillow.  
  
"And what about you and Bill, may I ask?"  
  
"Hey, who said anything about me having children?" Ria demanded. "I'd make an awful mother, and stop trying to change the subject. B, you ask Katie out. She says yes. You go on a date. You decide that she isn't the woman for you, and dump her. It hurts her, but in the long run it's less painful than waiting six months and then telling her that you never really loved her. You feel guilty for a while, but a few burns later and we're back where we started.  
  
"C, you do nothing. And you spend the next six months worrying that you should have done something. In said six months you make my life hell, not to mention Merri's. We all wish you'd just asked the poor girl out, although really we think that if you're dithering this much you don't deserve her."  
  
"So, in your expert opinion I should ask her out," Charlie concluded. "Marvellous. Where exactly am I supposed to take her, may I ask?"  
  
"There I can't help you," Ria replied. "Ask Bill, he's the one who lives here. Presumably he knows where all the classy restaurants are."  
  
"Ria, have you ever had romantic advice from my big brother?" Ria looked at him. "Okay, stupid question, my big brother is the one you need romantic advice on. Well, let me explain to you."  
  
"Are you sure I want to hear this?" Ria interrupted. "I mean, I don't mind if your ego takes a battering, but mine is considerably more fragile."  
  
"You'll survive, dear. Now, Bill's idea of romantic advice is to tease you relentlessly. And you never actually get anything useful out of him.come to think of it, the two of you have a lot in common. Only difference is, you're a lot prettier to look at."  
  
"Charlie, you are awful!!" Ria exclaimed, laughing.  
  
"Thank you, thank you. Ri, if you think I'm bad you should meet Fred and George."  
  
"For goodness' sake, Charlie, just ask Katie out. If she says no then I promise I'll give you another one of these midnight counselling sessions. If she says yes I will still give you a midnight counselling session, and I will make your brother tell me just where there is a nice restaurant. If it will make you feel better, I will even make him take me to that restaurant on the night of your date."  
  
"Okay, Ri, I have to draw the line somewhere. It was all sounding very healthy until you mentioned bringing my brother to my date. But you win. I'll ask Katie out. It can be a holiday romance type thing."  
  
"I'm sure she'll really appreciate that," Ria said, wryly.  
  
"I don't want or need a long distance relationship, Ria, and she should be free to check out any other nice guys that come this way. But if you could get Bill to recommend a nice place to take her, that would be excellent."  
  
"You've got it, honey. She won't know what's hit her!" Ria grinned, and Charlie returned the smile. The girl was amazing.  
  
"Charlie?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"How's your dancing?"  
  
"Awful, why?"  
  
"Because you may have to do some tangoing after dinner. But don't worry, my father is a nobleman. I could tango before I could walk. I'll throw in dancing lessons."  
  
"Excellent. Ria?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"What is this?" Charlie demanded, pulling a stuffed toy out from underneath him.  
  
"That? I believe it's Blinky."  
  
"Who or what is Blinky?"  
  
"Blinky is Claire's favourite teddy. She's left him here to guard me. She thinks if nothing is here looking after me then I won't be here in the morning. I didn't have the heart to refuse after the speech she gave me. Besides, her baby blues are irresistible."  
  
"Poor kid. I get the feeling she missed you."  
  
"Charlie, she's five years old and the only thing familiar to her here disappeared for three days. I think we can fairly safely say that she was more than a little scared. At least Livvy had Tom."  
  
"Tom is one weird guy, Ri. He reminds me of someone, though. Something about his eyes."  
  
"They're the same shape and colour as Livvy's, dear," Ria informed him.  
  
"No - hers are the same as.yours. Ria! Tom looks like you!"  
  
"He does not!"  
  
"He is the spitting image of you."  
  
"He's a man. He can't possibly be the spitting image of me."  
  
"Don't split hairs, Ria, I'm serious. Thomas Kettleworth is a dead ringer for you."  
  
"Charlie, it's late and you're tired and overwrought. Why don't you go to bed and worry about who and what I look like in the morning?"  
  
"Deny it all you like, it's true."  
  
"Charlie." Charlie got the feeling that Ria wasn't going to accept his observation just yet so he said good night and took himself to his own room. But he was right, he knew he was. Ariadne Rutherford and Thomas Kettleworth were in some way related, he'd bet a month's earnings on it. 


	8. Chapter 8 - Love is in the Air

****

Spiritus aduro

****

Part VIII

__

It was dark, cold and misty. Six men, unshaven and rough looking, obviously from the dregs of society were grouped round a fire, doing business with a cloaked and hooded figure. What they were saying was unintelligible, yet she could tell that it boded no good. They had a mission to fulfil for a master. Who this master was, or where he came from she did not know. Indeed, she had no idea how she knew that they planned evil deeds, but she did. It was tangible in the air, and though she could not hear them, she knew their purpose. They were the servitors of death, and their master aimed to conquer all in a quest for eternal glory. In spite of their lowly background - or perhaps because of it - these men were ambitious. In the whisper of the wind she could read their intent - to rise to glory with their master, or perish in the attempt. As she retreated from the dismal surroundings of these, the lowest of the low, one thought remained with her, crystal clear. Their master was in Albania, and they…they were in Romania. A terror was to be unleashed. Just what that terror was she did not know, but the fear that gripped her was real, and an image flashed before her eyes…

****

"Jon!" Merri gasped, as she jerked into an upright position. Her bedclothes were all awry, as if she had been struggling, and she was drenched with sweat. It had been a bad dream that was all, she realised, breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. She couldn't remember what had happened in it, but the sense of fear stayed with her. And that fear was for Jon. Restlessly, she threw back the blankets and shrugged on her dressing gown before padding over to the window to survey the night sky. The dream had unsettled her. Though she couldn't remember the actual content, she was sure that she had dreamt it all before and she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that it induced in her. It shouldn't have had that effect on her - it was just a dream, after all. But she was alone tonight. Charlie and Ria were both in Egypt, and the silence surrounded her like a blanket of suffocation. She would have given anything to hear Ria mumbling in her sleep, as she did all too often. Nonsense words, but tonight just the knowledge that her friend was there would have given her comfort. She would willingly have paid to have to suffer Charlie's sleepy snuffles and snores. For someone who had shared a room for the best part of his life, he was a remarkably loud sleeper. But at this moment, noise was what she craved, for noise would bring with it security and peace of mind. Merri sighed. It was stupid to let a nightmare influence her sleep pattern, but it was so very _real_ that she couldn't help it. Tracing the constellations with her mind's eye, she pondered. Why was Jon featuring in these dreams, and why couldn't she shake the fear that the dream had caused? More than anything, she wished that her flatmates were at home.

****

It was very hard for Merri not to notice Charlie and Ria's return to Romania. Aside from the noise that the two of them were making, Charlie's trail of luggage was a dead give-away.

"CHARLIE!" she heard Ria yell.

"RIA!"

"GET YOUR DIRTY LAUNDRY OFF OF MY BED!" Ria screeched. Merri laughed. Everything was as it should be. 

"It's not dirty!" Charlie protested, emerging from his bedroom. "Oh, hi, Merri, can't stop - her holiness is being pernickety again."

"You found her then. Excellent," Merri smiled, as she followed him into Ria's room.

"It looks dirty to me," Ria told Charlie. "Look - it's all crumpled!"

"Because it's been in a suitcase, smarty-pants," Charlie replied. 

"Well, clean or dirty, I still don't want it on my bed," Ria stated, firmly, before seeing Merri. "MERRI!! How are you? Did you miss us?"

"Things were a lot quieter around here without you," Merri admitted, honestly. "But somehow, it's just not the same without the arguing."

"Well, if Mr Weasley didn't insist on leaving his _junk_ on my bed then everything would still be a lot quieter," Ria told her. "How did it get into my room in the first place, Charlie, dear?"

"I put it here," Charlie told her.

"What was wrong with your _own_ room?" Ria demanded.

"Not enough space. Still isn't, so you'll have to leave it there for a little bit longer."

"There was plenty of space before you left, Charlie," Ria pointed out.

"Then Bill sent him a wizigram," Merri explained. "He turned the place upside down packing before coming to rescue you. Just like the scorned lovers in plays." 

"Scorned _lovers_?!?" Charlie and Ria exclaimed. Merri smiled. It worked like a charm every time.

"Wouldn't that involve me turning Charlie down?" Ria asked.

"I am _not_ her lover!" Charlie said, exasperatedly, at the same time.

"I know." Merri said, grinning wickedly. "It was just a passing comment." Ria lobbed a cushion at her, which Charlie dodged as he left the room, and Merri heard a vague comment about women and sport somewhat muffled underneath the pile of clothes that were hiding his face. As the door clicked shut she looked at Ria, who was pulling a face at her.

"Meanie."

"I aim to please," Merri told her, laughing. "And you fell for it. You always do."

"Maybe. You _do_ know that he's not my scorned lover, right?"

"I know he's not your scorned lover, Ri. Whether he does or not is another matter."

****

With Charlie and Ria safely back in Romania, breakfast-time was a rowdy affair, and Merri wouldn't have had it any other way. 

"No Charles, I'm telling you that Princess Prunella has the World Record for winning the Ugliest Hag award thirteen times!"

"No, Ariadne," Charlie mocked, "I'm telling _you_ that Queen Quikiatu won the Ugliest Hag award fifteen times, in a row, to boot!" Merri looked from one to the other and smiled. Only Charlie and Ria would spend half an hour arguing about the trivia questions in the Butterbeer Break section of the Daily Prophet. Frankly, Merri wondered why they bothered. She wasn't sure who wrote the questions, but really - who _cared_ about ugly hags? Well, Charlie and Ria, evidently. Ria's toast lay abandoned on her plate, a single bite taken out of it. Charlie had rammed his all in at once when Ria had begun her initial diatribe - a disgusting habit that would have made his mother shriek with dismay - and Merri was surprised that he hadn't licked the plate clean.

"…I've never even heard of Queen Quikiatu. You're making it all up, I can just tell."

"Do you want to win the prize money or not?" Charlie demanded.

"I don't really care. But it's Princess Prunella."

"It's Queen Quikiatu."

"How do you know?"

"Because 'Princess Prunella' has three letters too many," Charlie smirked. "So there." Ria scowled, but any reply that she might have made was prevented by the arrival of a rather dilapidated looking owl.

"Honestly, Charlie, you need to explain to your family that Errol isn't really up to visiting you more than once a month," Ria told him.

"Errol isn't up to visiting me, full stop," Charlie replied. "But how else do you expect my letters to reach me?"

"Doesn't Percy have an owl?" Ria demanded.

"Percy wouldn't let any of the kids use Hermes, not that I blame him. The chances are, knowing my brothers, that if Percy did lend Hermes to one of them he'd get him back dyed bright purple."

"Well, even so…there is owl post, you know!"

"The nearest Owl Office is so far away from The Burrow that its significance is laughable," Charlie replied, solemnly.

"Who's it from?" Merri asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"George, I think," Charlie replied, offering Errol some water and the rest of Ria's toast.

"Well…" Ria said, for once not chastising her friend for stealing her breakfast. "What does he say?"

"Hold on, and I'll read it," Charlie replied, unrolling the parchment and clearing his throat. "'_Dear Charlie… How are things in Romania? Been fried by any good dragons yet? Fred, Ron and I were almost fried by Mum the other day. You remember I wrote to you asking about Ford Anglias? Well, Mum found out just what it was we needed information for. Don't worry, none of us squealed on you, even if we _did _end up spending the morning de-gnoming. I suppose you know that Harry Potter is Ron's best friend by now - ickle Ronniekins consorting with the rich and famous. Before long he won't be acknowledging us anymore! Anyway, as Harry doesn't have any parents - you'd know that, of course - he has to spend the summer with some awful Muggle relatives. Ron knew that the Dursleys (that's their name) were really out of order to Harry, so he invited him to stay at the Burrow, as you do. But Harry didn't reply. Now, I know Errol isn't the most reliable owl in the world, but we were all pretty certain that he could make it to Surrey without conking out. So we waited, and then it got to Harry's birthday, and Ron was just getting tetchy. He can be just like a little old woman sometimes - wonder where he gets that from…'"_

"Your poor mother!" Ria interjected. 

"He didn't mention Mum at all, your holiness. Don't jump to conclusions." Charlie grinned.

"You've read me the letters your mum sends you, Charlie, dear," Ria pointed out. "Trust me, he's referring to your mother."

"Well…maybe. But that's irrelevant and beside the point." Charlie continued to read. "'_He can be just like a little old woman sometimes - wonder where he gets that from? It was driving Fred and me nuts, so we…borrowed Dad's latest Muggle device, a car. A Ford Anglia, believe it or not! He's enchanted it, so we flew all the way from home to Harry's house, and then we rescued him."_

"Only your brothers would do that, Charlie," Ria smirked. "And to think that you gave them the information to make it all possible."

"_I_ gave them the information? I seem to recall a certain dark haired Kentian had something to do with it."

"How many times…? It's maid of Kent! We're not from Mars, you know! Kentian indeed!"

"I dunno," Charlie replied, grinning. "You certainly don't resemble a normal human being some of the time. You know some remarkably obscure stuff. Ria the Witch from Outer Space. It has a certain ring to it. Maybe I can find someone to turn it into a story…"

"You're _so _amusing," Ria responded, sarcastically. "And stop trying to change the subject - _I_ seem to recall the letter containing the aforementioned information was written in your hand. And if your mum ever finds it, heaven help us all!"

"Oh, you're loving this," Charlie mock-glared at Ria. "Is Charlie-torture your favourite pastime or something?"

"Oh yes," Ria replied, a wicked grin on her face. "And don't you forget it. But I want to know what happened." Charlie returned to the parchment.

__

"'His aunt and uncle were starving him; he even had bars_ on his window. Hopeless, that's what some Muggles are. We used a few tricks to get all of his stuff, and then we drove home. Fred was pretty good, actually. But flying a car is nowhere near as much fun as Quidditch. And everything was going hunky-dory; we got home OK, and were about to sneak back into our rooms and surprise Mum with Harry, when she turned up. Well, you know what Mum's like, and we ended up de-gnoming. Fred says that frankly, he thinks we were lucky to avoid decapitation. Oh, but Ginny was the funniest. She has a secret crush on Harry, you know, and she walked into the kitchen, screamed and walked out again. Excellent teasing material.'"_

"Now that's just cruel," Merri voiced her thoughts. "Your poor sister - she's only…what, nine, ten?"

"Eleven," Charlie corrected her. "But Fred and George tease everyone, you know. And Fred's the worst. Ginny's probably used to it by now."

"You can't possibly expect us to believe that Dillon and Cerian have never teased you about your crushes," Ria added. "I know that we used to rib Lucy rotten when she was going out with Geoff. I think I wanted to know whether I got to be the bridesmaid or not after their second date," she smiled. "But do carry on, Charlie, dear."

"Thank you. _'Summer is going as summers usually do - we've been practising Quidditch - three members of the Gryffindor team in one house - can't be bad. Ginny's been avoiding Harry, which seems stupid to me, but it's painfully obvious that she likes him, and I really think he finds having her attention embarrassing. _

We went to Diagon Alley yesterday. Well, I say we went to Diagon Alley, but Harry ended up in Knocturn Alley instead. He's never used Floo Powder before and he must have missed the grate. Wish I'd thought of doing that. Apparently he saw Lucius Malfoy. Dad reckons there's something dodgy there. He's probably right. I_ wouldn't know, because _I've_ never been to Knocturn Alley. But Lucius Malfoy is a git. When we were in Flourish and Blotts getting our schoolbooks he had a fight with Dad. Of course, Dad would have won, but Hagrid broke the two of them up. Malfoy was making snide remarks about us being poor. Well, I'd rather be poor and normal than have money and be scum like he is. Bloody Slytherins._

Oh, and guess who the new DADA professor is! Gilderoy Lockhart! Mum's secretly in love with him, you can just tell. Personally, I think he's a bit…la di da. Phoney. I'll bet he can't teach for toffee - I wonder what it would be like to have a decent DADA prof? I'll get back to you on that one.

Anyway, I'd better be off - Fred wants to pull a prank on Percy, who's being very perfect, as always. Sickening really. Oh, and write back more quickly this time, you git!

Love

George.'"

Merri grinned as Charlie folded the parchment up. The Weasleys all seemed to have a certain charisma about them that made their goings on fascinating to hear about. 

"Wish I had a flying car," Ria lamented. 

"You're strange, Ri," Charlie replied. "Bet _you_ like Gilderoy Lockhart too!"

"Oh ha ha, very funny," Ria responded. "Lockhart is for middle aged witches and little girls who don't know any better. I'm sorry, but 'World's Most Charming Smile'? Where on earth did they get that idea from? I always think it looks like he's got hold of something unsavoury in the pictures on the books."

"It worries me that you've studied his books in detail," Merri told her. 

"My mum has them on the coffee table," Ria retorted. "She's never read them - she thinks they look clever." 

"How motherly of her," Merri smiled. "What I _really_ want to know is whether you've read them or not."

"Well…"

"Ha! She has!" Charlie crowed. "And we thought you were intellectual."

"They were funny - I've never read more codswallop in my life!" Ria told him, defensively.

"We believe you," Charlie said, grinning. "What was it you said? For middle aged witches and little girls? Which category do you fall into?" Merri regarded the resulting battle with interest. There was something endearing about Charlie and Ria. Strange, but endearing.

****

August rolled into September in a flurry of brightly coloured leaves. The dragon eggs had all hatched by now, and Merri had her hands full with both Ezara and Prudence's babies to see to. But somehow, in between playing nursemaid to a host of baby magical creatures, she managed to spend a large amount of time with Jonathan Sommers, something that resulted in a lot of teasing from her flatmates. Not that she cared. Jon was one of those people that you met once in a lifetime, someone that you would want to hold on to. Her relationship with him was like none she had ever imagined before. He wasn't her boyfriend in the strict sense of the word - neither of them had ever said 'I love you' and for that, Merri was glad. She didn't want it to be said until it was true; to say it before was to grossly devalue those three precious little words. They had only known each other for two months, and rushing into things was not her style. 

The two of them were taking a walk, making the most of the lingering warm weather. Strolling through the dense woodland, Merri felt strangely peaceful. They were walking in silence for the most part, both of them drinking in the beauty of their surrounding with hungry eyes. The magic that they did, the magic that they had learnt, it was nothing at all compared to the magic of the trees that surrounded them. The forest was full of life - birds sang sweetly in the trees, amongst the leaves and soil on the ground the worms wriggled. The sun filtered through the ancient oaks, creating a dappled effect and illuminating the rich reds, yellows, purples and browns of the leaves that were now dying. It was a paradise beyond any magic, and it was a paradise that Merri could stay in forever. Or rather, it should have been.

"Bloody hell!" Jon exclaimed, and Merri stopped examining the wildlife to see what had caused his sudden shock. What she saw made dread fill her heart. The scene was familiar, though she had only witnessed it once before. In the clearing lay a young unicorn, caught in a brutal looking trap. Even as she took it all in, Jon was on his knees beside the unfortunate creature, gently freeing it from the fierce teeth of the cruel tool. 

"Is it alive?" Merri asked, fearfully. The small creature was still, too still, and the silence that had been so pleasant just minutes previously was now scaring her.

"Just," Jon replied, curtly. His tone, which had been warm just minutes earlier, was now icy cold with anger and loathing.

"Well, shouldn't we do something?" Merri asked, eyeing the silver pool of blood with shock and distaste. 

"Of course we should bloody do something," Jon snapped and Merri stepped back reflexively. This angry Jon was not a Jon she was acquainted with, and she didn't think she really wanted to be either. She stood in silence as he levitated the half-dead unicorn, and followed Jon anxiously to his house. The silence was no longer companionable. It was cold, so cold that even though the sun was shining Merri shivered a feeling of dread gripping her from within. Something bad was going to happen. She didn't know what it was, but it was going to come. Then she blacked out.

****

"Merri? Merri! Dear Merlin, let her be all right! MERRI!" Merri stirred, her eyes fluttering open. The blurry image that greeted her frightened her, and rather than attempt to focus her vision, she closed them again, tightly, in the mistaken belief that if she couldn't see it then nothing bad would happen. "Merri? Merri, open your eyes." Merri recognised the voice, distorted though it was with anxiety and sorrow. Slowly she opened her eyes once more, and this time she made an effort. Jon. She could see Jon. She was suddenly conscious of a cup being pressed to her lips. "Here, drink this," he said, gently. She shook her head, mutely. It smelt awful. "Please, Merri? For me?" She shook her head again.

"It…smells…a...aw…awful," she said, her dry mouth making it hard to get the words out. 

"I know," he soothed, gently stroking her hair. She was suddenly conscious that her head was cradled in his lap. "But it will make you feel better. Drink it. Please." Silently, Merri did as she was bidden and, vile as it tasted, once she had downed the potion she felt much better. 

"Wh…what happened?" she asked, fearfully, aware now that she was shivering. Jon must have noticed too. 

"I don't know," he said. "The unicorn…well, anyway, I thought you were behind me, and then I heard you scream, and I came outside and…you were here." It seemed to suddenly dawn on him that the two of them were still in open, and the sun was setting, the warmth of the day leaving with it. "We should get you indoors," he said, softly. Then, as if she weighed no more than a feather, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into his home, gently laying her on his bed . Then he disappeared. It seemed like he was gone for an eternity, although in reality he left her for barely a minute before returning with a glass of water, which he offered her. She took it gratefully, and sipped its contents, feeling much better as the cool liquid soothed her throat.

"What happened to the unicorn?" she demanded, struggling to sit up. Jon shook his head at her. 

"Don't sit up. You've hit your head. I'll call Ria or Charlie in a minute, and let them know you're here. You can't go home in that state."

"Jon," Merri was growing frantic. She couldn't sit up - she physically didn't have the energy, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to try. "What happened?"

"It's okay," he soothed her.

"It's not okay at all," she told him, irately. "WHAT HAPPENED TO THE UNICORN?" Jon looked away from her, and Merri regretted her outburst. "He's dead, isn't he," she said, softly. Jon held her gaze and she could read it in his eyes. "Oh, Jon! I'm so so sorry!" To her horror, tears began to well up in her eyes, and before she could stop them, she was sobbing.

"Shhh," she was vaguely aware of Jon's arms around her, of him murmuring words of comfort in her ear, brushing stray tendrils of red hair off of her face. 

"I'm sorry," he said, softly.

"It's not your fault," she sobbed. "You did everything you could."

"No…not just for that. For shouting at you. And for not being there."

"You were there! You were trying to save him!"

"You could have died, and if you hadn't screamed I wouldn't have known!"

"I didn't scream," Merri told him. "I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen and then… I woke up," she frowned. "Maybe I _did_ scream. I don't remember screaming…you don't think I'm going mad, do you?" Under normal circumstances it would have been funny, but at that moment she was scared. Very scared.

"No. You're not mad," Jon said it with such conviction that Merri believed him. She trusted him. "Merri - has anything like this happened to you before?" Merri looked away from him. "It has, hasn't it. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want you to think I was some crackpot," she explained, exasperated at herself for giving away her most closely guarded secret. "Back when…back when Voldemort was around, and my Dad was auroring all the time…then it used to happen a lot. I'd get this feeling of dread…sometimes I'd see things happening…then I'd black out. I didn't tell anyone. Not even my parents. But it hasn't happened for years - not since he disappeared. I thought that perhaps I wasn't mad after all."

"Do you know what I think," Jon began. "I think you've got the Sight."

"The Sight?" Merri laughed. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"No, listen to me," he said it with such intensity that she was forced to look at him, to hold his gaze, and the conviction she saw in the depths of his eyes was enough to convince her.

"I'm not sure which is worse," she told him, solemnly, "being a nutter or seeing things."

"Oh, being a nutter, definitely," Jon smiled. "But I think I love my particular nutter very much." Merri looked up at him, shocked. Now _that_ she hadn't expected. But there was sincerity in the way he met her inquisitive gaze, and for once she allowed her heart to rule her. And she didn't regret it.

****

"So what are you going to do?" Charlie demanded of them. Merri felt Jon's hand squeeze hers as he replied.

"Hunt them down. Hunt them down and make them pay."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Ria asked, worriedly. "Surely going to the Aurors would be a better move."

"The Aurors?" Jon made a dismissive noise. "They won't do anything. What can they do? The Reserve is none of their business. No. This is up to us."

"Well, if that's what you want to do, then I'll help," Charlie told him, determination showing on his face. "Only scum get involved in a trade like that."

"Oh, I'll support you," Ria assured them all. "I just wanted to be sure that there was no other option. People do not kill innocent creatures around me and get away with it. We'll catch them, or my name's not Ariadne Rutherford." Merri smiled at her gratefully. Even when things were at rock bottom, there was always hope. When people like Ria and Charlie were prepared to oppose the evil that would poach on purity there was always a chance that things would end up all right in the world.

****

They didn't tend to get owls in the evening very often. Generally the post arrived at breakfast time, and provided ample amusement for the inmates of the flat before they set off for work. So, when Charlie received an owl later on in the day, naturally Merri's interest was peaked. When she asked him what it was, however, he was unusually close-mouthed. It was evidently news that was of importance to him, but from the look on his face, Merri wasn't sure whether he considered it to be good or bad. However much she wanted to know what had piqued Charlie's interest, there were some things that were better left well alone, and she judged that this was one of them. Charlie as a person was warm and outgoing, but his wrath was not to be incurred at any cost, and Merri was wise enough to know that to pressure him for details would gain her nothing but bother. Therefore, she left him to his post, and was free to wonder just what the mysterious letter contained.

****

Merri had been out with Jon once again. Their relationship, which only a week previously had been only slightly more than platonic was now slightly more than romantic, and Merri was thriving on it. She had never dreamed that she could be this happy. She was just plain boring old Merrilees Fergusson, redheaded Scot from Hufflepuff that no one was interested in. She had grown resigned to watching people fall in love with her friends while she remained single. She wasn't stupid - she knew that her looks were never going to attract a flock of admirers. Even now, she was secretly scared that one day she'd wake up and it would all be a pleasant dream. What she didn't realise, and what Jon did, was that beauty was more than skin deep. Besides, he suited her. There was something about being in love that made the plainest of people - people like herself - become the most beautiful. It was a glorious inner peace, and she glowed with it as she entered the house, only to wish that she hadn't. Charlie and Ria were arguing again. They had been at it ever since they got back from Egypt, but Merri had yet to get to the bottom of the situation. All she knew was that an idea of Charlie's was not going down well with Ria, and that Charlie wouldn't let the matter drop.

"It's possible, Ria. You know it is."

"It is not."

"It is. Look - he says so."

"Charlie - listen to me. It. Is. Not. Possible."

"How do you know?"

"What?!"

"How do you know?"

"And just _what _is that supposed to mean?"

"How do you know? You can't know." 

"How _dare _you?"

"Ria…"

"HOW DARE YOU!!!"

"Ri, I'm sorry!"

"It's all right for you, Charlie Weasley, playing happy families with your hoards of siblings and parents who love you, but you just didn't think, did you?"

"Ria! Ria, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that…Ri!"

"What am I _supposed_ to say, for Merlin's sake!"

"Ri, forget it."

"Well, fine. Have it your way. Evidently you're not going to shut up until I've admitted it."

"No, Ri, it's not like that! Ri, listen to me!"

"I DON'T KNOW WHO MY PARENTS ARE, OKAY? THEY DIDN'T LOVE ME ENOUGH TO LET ME FIND OUT? HAPPY NOW?" Merri stood, shell shocked, as Ria ran past her, tears streaming down her face, out into the night. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the house, and the sound of fleeing footsteps echoed in the still night air.

**__**

Author's Note:A lot of the ideas in this chapter should be credited to Andy and not me (that goes for the last chapter as well). Certain conversations in this chapter have been shamelessly plucked from conversations I've had with him (believe me, Ria was telling the truth when she said we were Kentish maids not Kentians). Just to clarify, everything in this chapter does fit in with canon, although it may not seem that way. Remember that once you've eliminated the impossible anything is possible however improbable. I'm hoping to get Part IX out in good time, but in the meantime, thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing. All comments are taken into consideration, and if I like them, acted upon. J Hallie


	9. Chapter 9 - Running Isn't Always The Ans...

Spiritus aduro  
  
   
  
Part IX  
  
As Ria left the house Charlie stood, open mouthed, realising that he had well and truly put his foot in it this time. He also had a rather uncomfortable feeling of guilt, because his intent had not been to upset Ria, but rather to help her. Evidently he should never become a therapist. The whole outburst had stemmed from a letter he had received that morning from Tom. Although Ria denied it, Charlie was positive that she and Thomas Kettleworth were in some way related, especially after what Tom had told him about his mother in the pyramid. With this in mind Charlie had written to Tom not long after returning from Romania, asking him to investigate further. Tom's reply was exactly what Charlie had suspected - the rumours had been true, and Helena Kettleworth had had an illegitimate baby daughter before she married Thomas' father. Tom had added a note to the effect that it was his mother's greatest wish to be reunited with her daughter. Charlie, convinced that the likeness between Ria, Livvy and Tom was more than coincidence, had considered it his duty to broach the matter with Ria herself. Ria clearly disagreed.  
  
"What was all that about?" Merri demanded of him. Charlie shrugged. It wasn't his business to tell, even if Merri was practically part of the family now. Inwardly, Charlie groaned. The family! Months ago he had promised his mother that he would visit her in the near future, and after much negotiation (his visit had to fit in with the family activities) they had agreed that his visit was to take place at the beginning of November. In fact, he was due to leave for The Burrow in about ten minutes. Fortunately he had packed and so forth the previous day. It was Ria's reaction that had made him forget.  
  
"Merri, I can't stop," he said, realising that the trip to Ottery St Catchpole offered an ideal escape route. "I promised Mum I'd be home today, and that means I have to leave now." He Disapparated, leaving a thoroughly bemused Merri frowning at where he had been standing.  
  
Usually, international magical travel was a palaver that made most people stick to their own country or use Muggle transport. However, it was impractical for those working at the Dragon Reserve to have to go through the whole routine when returning to their native countries and consequently Direct Floo Links had been created between the various nations and the reserve. In theory, this should have meant that employees of the Reserve could travel to any of the countries represented at the reserve without having to bother with Customs. In practise, this was not the case. A witch or wizard could only use a Direct Floo Link when travelling to his or her own land, and even then there were papers to fill out in triplicate, something that most people did before arriving at the transport platform to save time. In spite of what may have been considered the inconvenience of the bureaucratic restrictions, the Direct Floo Links were well used with people who did not want to wait for hours at customs every time they visited friends and relatives 'at home'. Charlie, in a rare moment of (Merri inspired) organisation, had filled in his forms a couple of days ago, and so could use the Direct Floo Links immediately. The British Link took employees to the Leaky Cauldron. From there they were expected to make their own way home. Grimacing - he'd never enjoyed travelling through the Floo Network - Charlie took a pinch of the powder and threw it into the fire, before stating his name, number and nationality. The Direct Floo Links worked differently from the normal Floo Network because they only had one destination. The information that Charlie was obliged to repeat was simply a protocol designed to minimise the risk of unauthorised use of the system.  
  
* * * *  
  
The Leaky Cauldron would never change. The smoky interior of the pub that was the gateway into wizarding London was comfortingly familiar in a world that was constantly changing. No matter when you arrived or whom you planned to see, you could guarantee that there would be an odd mix of people and creatures within the tavern. But home comforts were the last thing on Charlie's mind when he fell out of the fireplace. He was far too busy worrying about Ria to see the hag sitting by the bar munching on something that belied contemplation, or to pay any attention to the group of seedy looking men eyeing a young woman from the safety of a table in a dark corner.  
  
Ria had been more than a little upset when he had left. Well, actually, he wasn't entirely sure what she had been when he had left, because she had chosen a couple of minutes before his departure to leave the house in an emotional outburst that was very unusual for Ria, someone who kept her emotions bottled up as much as possible.  
  
"Charlie! You're home! Oh, thank goodness, I thought you'd forgotten!" Molly Weasley fell upon her son with maternal tenderness when he Apparated into the kitchen of the Burrow, still worrying about his friend. He pushed his concerns to the back of his mind, and concentrated on greeting his mother.  
  
"Would I forget you?" he demanded, smiling as he returned the hug.  
  
"You have before," Molly Weasley told him, sternly.  
  
"When?"  
  
"Well, there was the Christmas before last, and then there was…" Mrs Weasley launched into a lengthy exposition of Charlie's forgetfulness. He smiled ruefully at her - if elephants never forgot then his mother must have been one in a previous life.  
  
"Okay, Mum, I get the picture," he told her, laughing.  
  
"Yes, well," Molly was trying her hardest to look miffed, and failing miserably. "You're here now, and your father will be home shortly. I don't know, they work him far too hard at the Ministry, and they don't pay him nearly enough." Charlie had heard it all before, but he agreed with his mother's sentiments. He also thought he knew just why it was that his father had not been promoted. It was Arthur Weasley's fascination with all things Muggle that kept him back at the Ministry, and with Cornelius Fudge in charge, that didn't surprise him. He had a suspicion that his mother shared his hypothesis.  
  
"How are the kids?" he asked, by way of changing the subject.  
  
"Fred and George will be the death of me one day," his mother told him, as she poured batter into a dish full of sausages. "Always busy playing tricks, never bothering about their schoolwork. Don't they realise that they need to get OWL's if they want to work with your father?"  
  
"Perhaps they don't want to work with Dad," Charlie suggested.  
  
"Well, where else would they work?" Molly demanded. "I understand why you and Bill aren't working at the Ministry, even if you do have much more intelligence than some of the bumbling fools there. You always wanted to work with dragons, even as a little boy, and Bill's always been keen on travelling and particularly good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, so the Gringotts job was a blessing for him. But the twins … the only thing they ever worry about is who to pull the next prank on." Charlie could sense the frustrated pride in his mother's ranting. "…They even 'borrowed' your father's car in summer. For good reasons, but still…"  
  
"What about Ron? How's he doing?"  
  
"Ron. Yes, I suppose you know I got an owl from Hogwarts about him. The first day of term - even Fred and George have never gone that far. Ron seems to have taken a leaf from their book - he flew your father's car to school with Harry. I can't imagine why he didn't just wait. Didn't the silly boy realise that your father and I would never allow the two of them to not get to Hogwarts!" Charlie was beginning to regret asking. "Really, Ron should follow Percy's example. Now, Percy, he's got it all worked out. He's determined to go into the Ministry, and really dedicated. Almost too dedicated, but I'd never dream of telling him that." Evidently Percy was still as much of a mother's boy as ever, then. "Now, dear, tell me all about your life. Do you have a girlfriend yet?" Charlie raised his eyebrows at his mother. That was the classic question, the question she asked every time. He wasn't sure why she asked it, mind you. Neither he nor Bill were in the market for a marriage just yet…he spluttered as he thought of Ria and Bill getting married. No, neither of them were ready for wives, and his mother was far too young to be a grandma, anyway.  
  
"No, none yet," he told her, cheerfully. Molly tutted.  
  
"I had children when I was your age," she pointed out. "You can't wait around forever, Charlie. Surely there must be someone!"  
  
"I can't say I've noticed," Charlie told her.  
  
"What about the girls you work with?" Molly pressed him.  
  
"No. Honestly, Mum, I promise I'll invite you to the wedding when I eventually find my soul mate."  
  
"Wedding? Who said anything about a wedding? So there is someone?"  
  
"NO!" Charlie shouted, beginning to get exasperated.  
  
"Well, there's no need to shout," his mother told him matter-of-factly. "I just worry about you, all alone with no one to cook and clean for you, or do your ironing." Charlie hid a smile. He had a sudden image of Ria wearing his mother's flowery apron in the kitchen. The only difference was, where his mother's kitchen was clean and tidy, with pots bubbling gently while she did the ironing, Ria's kitchen looked like a bomb had hit. As for the ironing … well, that was practically non-existent after an unfortunate interlude with the potatoes, which had involved Ria leaving the iron on the robes while rescuing the spuds. He was the one who did the cooking and the ironing! Fortunately, his father appeared at that moment, saving him from having to respond.  
  
"Good evening, Molly, dear, sorry I'm late. Mildred Jingo was Muggle- baiting - again!" Suddenly Arthur noticed his son.  
  
"Charlie! How nice to see you, son! How are you?" Charlie smiled at his father. Nothing much had changed. All that the house needed now was a few siblings to add some clutter and noise, and he would swear that he had taken a trip back in time. "How's work?" Charlie was eternally grateful that his father wasn't fixated on romance as he launched into an explanation of the ins and outs of the dragon reserve. It was good to be home.  
  
* * * *  
  
Home was possibly Charlie's favourite place in the world, and not just because of Mrs Weasley's fantastic cooking. Cornwall was home to some incredibly beautiful beaches that were ideal for walking along and thinking, and an excellent way for Charlie to escape from the loving attention of his mother. Much as he loved Molly, there were times when being the sole beneficiary of her boundless maternal enthusiasm was more tiring than he liked to admit. At times like those he walked along the miles of coastline, taking in the beauty of his surroundings and enjoying the isolation. He had added reason to visit his thinking place today; he needed to decide what to do about Ria. He had owled Merri to see how she was, and was alarmed to find that she hadn't been back to the house in Romania since her dramatic exit almost a week earlier. Merri had added a postscript telling him that Jon had said she was fine, but even so. It was something that Charlie wasn't sure how to deal with because he was positive that he was right. Helena Kettleworth might not be Ria's natural mother, but it would be good for his friend to take up the opportunity when it was open. Charlie knew how much Ria's origins bothered her, how much it hurt her to think that she wasn't wanted, even though she was wanted by scores of people. Her natural parents hadn't wanted her, and until she knew the full story, Charlie was pretty certain that she would never be happy within herself. As far as Ria was concerned, until she knew the truth her life would be a question mark. Charlie wasn't sure how he knew all this but he did.  
  
He was aiming for his favourite thinking spot, a stony cliff. If you climbed it then you came to a large rock that was ideal sitting and looking at the sea. To his surprise, someone else was already there. Dark hair flew like a banner in the wind, the tassels of a scarf providing a colourful foreground against the black canvas. Whoever it was wore a Gryffindor scarf; Charlie would recognise his house colours anywhere. She had their back to him. He was just about to turn around and leave her to think when she turned to face him. Charlie stood still in amazement. He knew the piquant features; had seen them almost every day for the last three years.  
  
"Charlie? What on earth are you doing here?" Ria sounded almost angry with him.  
  
"I live here," he pointed out.  
  
"No you don't," she replied. He supposed she had a point - most of the time he lived with her. But still, Cornwall was his home.  
  
"I'm visiting the folks," he told her.  
  
"Yes, I remember," she replied, somewhat distantly. "I didn't realise you took seaside walks." The unspoken implication was that if she'd known she would have taken herself elsewhere.  
  
"Look, Ria, about the other day," Charlie began awkwardly.  
  
"Forget it," Ria said, shortly.  
  
"You do know I'm sorry I upset you, don't you?" Charlie persisted.  
  
"Yes, I do. Drop it, Charlie." Ria stood up, as if to leave.  
  
"Why are you here?" he asked. She looked at him.  
  
"I'm visiting Jack," she explained. "You remember Jack? My boyfriend- turned-best-friend."  
  
"The maternal one who lives in Dover?"  
  
"Exactly. Only he moved to Cornwall. Better air, apparently. I needed maternal comfort after what you proposed, and Jack was the best refuge I could think of. I could hardly explain why I was upset to my mother, could I?" There was a soft reproach in Ria's words. "I also needed to think about what you said."  
  
"And have you?" Charlie asked, tentatively. Ria nodded.  
  
"That's why I'm here. I needed to straighten everything out." Charlie looked at her quizzically. "I've decided to do as you suggest," she told him, her expression closed. "But I need to see Mums and Daddy first. I couldn't not. I was trying to work out the best way to tell them."  
  
"Did you come up with a solution?" Charlie asked.  
  
"No," Ria replied, regretfully. "But Jack was right, you can't run away from your problems, so I might as well face this one now."  
  
"Do you want moral support?" Charlie asked, unsure of whether it was the right thing to say or not.  
  
"That would be good," Ria replied, smiling at him. It wasn't her usual smile, and it didn't convey happiness. It was a grateful smile, and in a way, it showed more of the true Ria than any of her other expressions. He offered her his hand, and she took it. "Thank you."  
  
* * * *  
  
Charlie soon realised that offering Ria moral support meant foregoing his last day at The Burrow. He got around the inevitable thirty questions his mother asked by telling her that he was visiting an old school friend. He didn't like to lie to her, but if he mentioned Ria she'd only get the wrong end of the stick, and he didn't have the energy to explain the complexity of their relationship. It seemed to satisfy her, and after airing many maternal worries and orders she allowed him to Disapparate to the house of Ria's friend, Jack.  
  
"Charlie!" Jack greeted him. "Ri won't be a minute. She's beautifying herself. Power-dressing, you know." Charlie smiled. Jack and his partner Tom were two of the nicest people he had ever met. He didn't know either of them particularly well - only through Ria - but the two of them tended to treat everyone as a part of their family.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with power dressing," Tom called from the kitchen. A smell of bacon and eggs was drifting through the house. "Oh, and Charlie - Jack lied. She'll be more than a minute, because she's not leaving this house until she's had something to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know, and the little madam is bound to skip it if we don't insist."  
  
"I heard that," Ria's voice floated down the staircase.  
  
"You were supposed to," Jack yelled.  
  
"I know," Ria shouted back. There was the sound of feet on the stairs, and then she materialised. "What was that about breakfast? Smells good, Tom."  
  
"Naturally," Tom smiled at her. "Sit down and eat, my dear."  
  
"Yes, Mum," Ria smiled back.  
  
"Do you want some, Charlie?" Jack asked, and although Charlie knew he was being polite, there was a genuine invitation in his tone.  
  
"I'm okay, thanks. My mother is a great believer in big breakfasts."  
  
"A woman after my own heart," Tom told him.  
  
* * * *  
  
"…And you take care of her," Jack told Charlie, firmly. Charlie fought to keep a grin off of his face, because really, Jack and Tom were acting more like Ria's parents than her friends. He smiled and nodded to humour them, however. It had dawned on him that he would be meeting Alex and Rosamunde Rutherford today, and he wasn't entirely sure just how Ria was going to explain him away. He was beginning to wonder if his presence would be more of a hindrance than a help, in fact. But he had offered moral support, and he was going to give it. He felt Ria slip her hand into his as they walked away from the house, and was surprised at the feeling of warmth her touch generated. Maybe the unspoken pressure he was under was getting to him. After Ria's initial reaction to the whole 'I think I've found your mother' situation, Charlie was beginning to question the logic of taking her to meet Helena after all. Why did he always get cold feet after convincing everyone that his idea was a good one?  
  
"Are you ready for this?" he asked Ria.  
  
"As I'll ever be," she replied and he gently squeezed her hand, before the two of them Disapparated in tandem.  
  
In a blur, they found themselves at the end of a long and muddy lane, bordered by a dark wooden fence covered in greenery. In summer, Charlie guessed that that lane would be one of the most tranquil places on earth, surrounded by scents and colours to stimulate the imagination. There were no blooms at the beginning of November, however, and so Charlie and Ria squelched along the pathway companionably.  
  
"Where exactly are we?" Charlie asked, curiously.  
  
"Buttercup Lane," Ria told him. "Penarddun Place is on an offshoot about one hundred yards from where we are now. You can't Apparate there, though - that's one of the few wards that Dad still maintains. I can remember a time when Penarddun was almost as safe as Hogwarts - back when You-Know-Who was around. Those wards had been up for centuries what with all the wars that have raged at various times, Grandpa saw fit to keep them all in good use. When Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who, Dad decided that we didn't need most of the wards and it was stupid to treat Penarddun like a medieval fortress, but he kept the Anti-Apparition wards. Apparently people appreciate the grounds more if they walk through them." As they turned up the offshoot that Ria had referred to, Charlie was amazed at the difference in landscape. The path was now gravelled, surrounded by neatly kept lawns with floral borders that were bright with colour even now. In the distance he could see a majestic house with the Rutherford family crest flying from one of its turrets. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Ria's wistful smile.  
  
"Wow." It was all he could think of saying. Whatever he had expected, it certainly wasn't this.  
  
"Welcome to Penarddun," Ria said. "We just have to follow the pretty gravel path now, until we reach the house." They crunched up the path, neither of them talking. Ria, it seemed, was lost in thought, and Charlie was far too busy taking in the surrounding land to indulge in small talk. At last they came to a huge oak door with a large brass knocker. Charlie stood aside, allowing Ria to do the honours. Three sharp raps rang in the still air.  
  
Just as Charlie was beginning to wonder whether anyone would ever let them in, the door opened slowly to reveal a grey haired woman with a pointy nose and square glasses, someone who reminded him of Professor McGonagall. When she spoke, her Scottish tones only heightened the comparison.  
  
"Miss Ria! We weren't expecting to see you here!"  
  
"I wasn't expecting to be here, Jemima," Ria said, smiling cordially and she entered the warmth of the house. Charlie followed her and allowed 'Jemima' to slam the door behind him.  
  
"Jemima Langley, this is Charlie Weasley, one of my colleagues. Charlie, this is Jemima, our housekeeper."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Charlie said, nodding. Jemima returned his nod, but it was clear she was more interested in Ria than in him.  
  
"You should have owled, Miss Ria," she chastised as though Ria were still a small girl and not a fully-grown woman. "The master and the mistress are visiting Miss Lucy and we're not expecting them back until dinner time."  
  
"I can wait," Ria replied. "And we don't want to put you out - we can always go out for lunch if it will be a problem."  
  
"Nonsense," Jemima said, firmly. "You'll eat here. Heaven forbid that Jemima Langley turn you out of your own home when there's soup brewing in the kitchen with plenty spare, and a good country loaf too, I'll warrant. I'll make arrangements."  
  
"Oh, no, Jimsie," Ria said, hastily. "We'll be perfectly at home in the kitchen - I'd hate to put you out!"  
  
"Now, Miss Ria, if it were just you then you know I'd not think twice about having you in my kitchen. But you have a guest, and I'll warrant that Mr Weasley doesn't want to eat in the Servant's Hall. No, Miss Ria, I'll have young Brown lay the table in the Breakfast Room for you - there's a nice fire going in there." Jemima turned on her heel and marched off, even as Ria began to complain.  
  
"Jimsie was Mums' governess before Mums went to Hogwarts," Ria explained. "When Mums married Daddy she moved here with her, and she's been housekeeper ever since. She still calls Lucy and Becca and Gemma Miss, even though they're all married. Bless her, she thinks we're all still little children. She's very set in her ways, is Jemima. Heaven forbid that my guest should eat in the kitchen, and never mind that I used to spend more time with her than in the Nursery. Come on, and I'll show you your room - Jemima will have ordered for the Blue Room to be prepared, I'll bet." Charlie wasn't used to this upper class society, where people had servants and guest bedrooms and huge houses, and where there were politics that even Ria couldn't change.  
  
"Why don't you have house-elves?" he asked, following Ria obediently.  
  
"Because they won't accept pay," Ria told him, matter-of-factly. "The people that work here are people that need work. People who would be living on the street. That's where half of our staff was found, you know. On the streets. They like working here - it's not as Victorian as it might seem to you. Jimsie might insist on calling me Miss Ria, but most of the others don't. We're one big family, really."  
  
"I still don't understand," Charlie admitted.  
  
"Don't be offended, Charlie, but I didn't expect you to. You've been normal all your life. You think that I have everything going for me, with wealth and a loving family and a big house. But with money and authority comes duty, or so Daddy's always told us."  
  
"And you choose to slum it in Romania," Charlie wondered. "You could have spent your whole life in luxury here!"  
  
"No," Ria said, softly, before murmuring something so quietly that Charlie looked at her questioningly. But she shook her head and showed him into the guest room.  
  
* * * *  
  
"What I don't understand is why you're set on doing this," Alexander Rutherford told Ria quietly, after she had explained that she wished to go to Birmingham lest her birth mother was there. Charlie had sat offering silent support as Ria had stumbled over the words that she knew would hurt her parents.  
  
"Alex," Rosamunde spoke to her husband gently, "we always knew this day might come, and we always said we'd support Ria if this was what she wanted to do."  
  
"I know," Alex said, heavily. "But you're still my little girl, Ria. I want you to know that. Whatever the circumstances of your birth, from the day that Jemima laid you in my arms after she found you on the doorstep, you became mine. You were such a precious little scrap, and I would have sworn that you were smiling at me. You've always been part of the family, Ri, and we don't want to lost you."  
  
"You won't lose me!" Ria hastened to reassure him. "You are my family. You always will be. You'll always be my Mums and Daddy. That will never ever change, no matter how many other mothers and fathers I come across. You took me in when other people would have thrown me out, and you raised me as your own. You've been better to me than many 'real' parents are to their children. I promise you that I will always be a Rutherford." At this, Rosamunde and Alex smiled at their youngest daughter.  
  
"Then do what you have to do," Rosamunde bade Ria. "Go in the knowledge that you have our blessing and our love."  
  
* * * *  
  
"You see this one?" Alex Rutherford was showing Charlie some of the family photo albums. "That's Ria when she was seven." Charlie smirked as a miniature Ria waved at him, a moment stopped in time, her two front teeth missing, black hair messily tied back in pigtails, half immersed in the large lake that Ria had promised to show him before they left Penarddun.  
  
"She looks just like Livvy," he said, in a moment of unguarded reflection.  
  
"We've always thought that peculiar," Alex agreed. "You're right, of course. Young Livvy is the spitting image of Ria. They're similar in character too - little rebels, the both of them. Olivia nearly gave the whole family heart failure when she and Claire took it upon themselves to visit Ria in Romania."  
  
"It's the type of thing that most children only dream of doing," Charlie agreed.  
  
"Yes, Lucy and Becca keep the Floo Powder under lock and key now. Those granddaughters of mine - never a dull moment when those two are around!" Charlie grinned. He knew someone else like that. Suddenly someone covered his eyes with their hands.  
  
"Guess who?" she demanded.  
  
"Kate," Charlie responded, mischievously.  
  
"I thought you'd got over her," Ria responded, moving her hands away and squeezing herself between her friend and father on the large settee. Before Charlie could reply, she realised what they were looking at. "Daddy!" she squealed. "How could you?"  
  
"Now, now, your holiness," Charlie began, sternly. "You were a very cute child. Don't deny me the pleasure of laughing at you in your youth."  
  
"No fair!" Ria complained. "I haven't seen any pictures of baby Charlie!"  
  
"Nor will you ever, if I have a say in it," Charlie replied.  
  
* * * *  
  
All good things have to come to an end, or so they said, and it was with great reluctance that Charlie and Ria left Penarddun Place late that evening, destined for Birmingham. In the short time that he had been there, Charlie had learnt just why it was that Ria spoke so fondly of her family home. There was a peacefulness surrounding the old house, and a sense of shelter. Ria, of course, had ghosts in her past that may well have marred the perfection of her surroundings, but even so, it was evident that she loved Penarddun. The Rutherfords were synonymous with the beautiful house, and now that Charlie had met them, it weighed heavily on his conscience that they didn't realise he lived with their daughter. After the initial shock of it he was sure that they would understand the lack of romance between the two of them. Ria was insistent that they should not know, however, and it was Ria's call. Besides, Charlie didn't really have the right to rock her boat any more - he had disturbed her comfortable momentum enough when he revealed his suspicions about her parentage. The Rutherfords waved until Charlie and Ria were out of sight and once the two of them reached Buttercup Lane they Disapparated to Birmingham.  
  
* * * *  
  
Looking around him, Charlie reflected that a quiet life in Cornwall, a sheltered life at Hogwarts and an isolated life in Romania could never compare to life in the city. The hustle and bustle of the people in Birmingham was normal enough, but the sheer volume of them was enough to make him stand stock-still and stare. Ria was taking in her surroundings in an equally wide-eyed fashion.  
  
"Should there be this many people around at this time of night?" she demanded.  
  
"How would I know?" Charlie countered. "I've never been here before in my life!"  
  
"Funny, that, because neither have I," Ria returned, in a cutting fashion. "Do you even know where we're going, Charles?"  
  
"Yes!" Charlie replied, defensively. "Well…I have a vague idea. I'm sure we can ask for directions." Ria shot him an incredulous look before replying.  
  
"I'm sure we can. But right now, all I want to do is sleep, if that's all right with you. No offence, but it's been a long day."  
  
"Sleep is good," Charlie agreed. "It would involve finding a hotel, though."  
  
"Why bother?" Ria asked, slowly. "There are plenty of inns around here." They were in Birmingham's equivalent of Diagon Alley.  
  
"You must be joking!" Charlie laughed. "They'll all have been booked up by businessmen. There's no way we'll find anywhere with two rooms going spare. We'd be lucky to even get one!"  
  
"Do we really need two rooms?" Ria asked him, quietly. "One would be enough. I don't mind sharing if you don't."  
  
"Are you sure?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow at her. That was not an Ariadne Rutherford type thing to say.  
  
"Positive," she replied firmly. "I don't particularly want to be on my own, anyway. Besides, you're hardly likely to assault me."  
  
Charlie frowned at her, before nodding.  
  
"Okay. You've got yourself a deal. We'd better hope that there's some kind of sofa."  
  
* * * *  
  
Asleep, Ria looked like a vulnerable child. Charlie rolled on his side to examine her more thoroughly. The long black lashes formed curling half moons on her cheeks, stained pink with sleep, and her hand cushioned her face. Suddenly, Charlie was seized with an urge to protect her. Or maybe it was more than that. He shook himself. It was bad enough that he was sharing a bed with his brother's girlfriend. Now was definitely not the time to start wondering about other things. Why was he awake, anyway? He was practically dead on his feet - they must have been to about six inns before finally getting a room. A room with a bed and not much else in it. Not even a sofa. Being a gentleman, he'd offered to sleep on the floor, but Ria wouldn't have it. The bed was huge, she'd said. Plenty of space for both of them. And so, he was lying there, watching his best friend, who also happened to be his brother's girlfriend, sleeping. At midnight. Sometimes he worried about his sanity. Other times, he just accepted that life was a lot more complicated than he liked to admit. 


	10. Chapter 10 - Better Best Forgotten

Spiritus aduro  
  
  
I usually put Author's notes, etc at the end of chapters, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate for this part. Firstly, I have to give huge amounts of thanks to Andy and Lou who spent hours (literally hours) helping me to rewrite this and make it more believable - without the two of you, this would never have made as much of an impact as it does now, and I'm truly grateful for all of your assistance. More thanks are due to Andy for being an invaluable beta reader, and also to Arabella for making any final important amendments. Reading their comments helps me to remember just why I am writing this story. Also, massive thanks should go to Lone Astronomer, who has been nagging me for this for quite some time (although she's been very patient about waiting for it). You're a great friend and an excellent co-webmistress! Finally, thanks to all of you, the readers out there. Your reviews make writing worthwhile, because they show that I'm not the only one who cares about the fate  
of a redhead and his slightly mysterious best friend.   
  
Okay, I do realise that this has been a particularly mushy and long A/N, but I felt it needed to be said. Having said that, all I have to say is enjoy the chapter, and apologise for the not-quite Valentine's Day theme. Oh, and Kait, if you can find the line that I said you'd like, then you deserve many brownie points. Hallie  
  
Part X  
  
Charlie stirred as the pale morning sunlight poured in through the window. He was vaguely conscious of someone staring at him. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to squint at the world. What he saw, in his half asleep state, was a large, black, hairy something.  
  
"Bloody hell," he said through the furry taste of sleep.  
  
"Morning to you too," Ria replied, turning around. Charlie marvelled at how much like a black bear she looked from behind when her sleep-tousled hair covered her back.  
  
"Don't do that to me!" Charlie exclaimed, still trying to focus properly. Sunlight, early morning and Charlie did not mix well.  
  
"Do what?!" Ria demanded.  
  
"I thought you were a Grim or something!" Charlie admitted.  
  
"Oh, Charlie, please, be your age!" Ria replied, grinning. "Firstly, Grims are entirely fictional. You know as well as I do that a large black dog is not an omen of death. My Grandfather kept one for a pet, for goodness' sake!"  
  
"Well, Uncle Bilius saw one, and twenty-four hours later he died," Charlie informed her. He didn't think he'd ever understand her blasé attitude towards Divination. He didn't set much score by predictions himself, but omens were different.  
  
"You are ridiculous," Ria told him, matter-of-factly. "It was an unfortunate mishap. You know as well as I do that your Uncle Bilius was in a broomstick crash. Disastrous though it may have been, you can hardly say that the poor dog was responsible for him getting all preposterous with his friends and insisting on racing. Dangerous sport, broomstick racing, but the big companies think they're good for publicity and... Well, anyway, Bilius Weasley did not see a Grim." Charlie wondered if he'd ever understand Ria. Here they were, preparing to meet her `real' mother and all she was worried about was his preconception with omens. He'd have been hysterical by now if it were him. Well... maybe not hysterical, but he'd certainly be a lot more tense than Ria seemed to be.  
  
"All I said was that you looked like a Grim."  
  
"Charmed, I'm sure," Ria replied, flicking a hand towel at him.  
  
"You're very cute when you're asleep though," he added, suddenly realising that his previous comment could have been interpreted as insulting.  
  
"Been watching me while I'm asleep, have you?"  
  
"Well, there was nothing better to do," Charlie pointed out.  
  
"I can think of several things," Ria said, wickedly. "But most of them are illegal."  
  
"Ria, you are one of the most bizarre people I have ever met." Charlie said, unguardedly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It doesn't matter," Charlie had a feeling that she wasn't going to let it go, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and gloss over it.  
  
"Yes it does. Elucidate."  
  
"Well, any other person in your position would be in pieces by now, and here you are joking with me. Anyone would think that it was just a normal day from the way you're acting." Ria looked at him, and just for a second he saw the fear of what was to come in her eyes. But as quickly as it was revealed to him, it was as though a blue vortex sucked it away, and Ria's gaze was unfeeling once more.  
  
"Why should I feel any different?" she demanded. "I'm only meeting a new person. We do that all the time. It's hardly something to get your knickers in a twist over." Charlie knew that she understood him, but he also realised that she didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't willing to push her. As far as he was concerned, any information that Ria divulged to him had to be released on her terms. Much as he wanted to know all the details of her past, he was wary of bringing the topic up lest it should upset her. So he simply nodded in half-hearted agreement, and got out of bed. Merlin only knew how today was going to affect Ria. Charlie sincerely hoped that it wasn't going to have an adverse effect on her. He didn't think that she'd be able to cope if it did.  
  
* * * *  
  
The streets of Birmingham were bustling with businessmen and women by the time Charlie and Ria left their accommodation. Charlie watched in amusement as Ria took in their surroundings, awestruck. For a moment she was like a little girl on holiday, enthralled by her surroundings and eager to learn more. The moment passed all too quickly, however.  
  
"Charlie, do you actually know where we're going?" she asked.  
  
"I have a vague idea," he responded. Tom had given him specific directions both for Apparition and walking. "We can either Apparate or walk - your choice."  
  
"I want to walk," Ria said, firmly.  
  
"Are you sure?" Charlie looked at her doubtfully. "You don't want to make the move quickly, get it over and done with?"  
  
"No," she said firmly. "I said I want to walk, and I meant I want to walk. I have some thinking to do." More thinking? He thought she'd done all of her thinking in Cornwall.  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, gently. It had seemed like a good idea to him when he'd initiated it, but now he was beginning to wonder whether he'd have done better to mind his own business. After all of his pushing, he was offering Ria a way out if she wanted it.  
  
"Who are you and what have you done with the real Charlie?" Ria asked. "Yes, I can cope with this. I'm not made of glass you know." Charlie wondered sometimes. Sometimes, just sometimes, he got the feeling that the tough act was all for show, that in spite of the sturdy oaken appearance on the outside, Ria was in fact as delicate as glass wand.  
  
* * * *  
  
Had Charlie followed his inclination to rush they could have been at the Kettleworth's house in just under ten minutes. He was handicapped by Ria's sudden dawdling, something that gave him cause to worry. Ria just didn't dawdle. She was a brisk walker at the best of times, and when she was in a hurry it was almost necessary to run to keep up with her. Charlie infinitely preferred the purposeful power-witch pace to the reflective crawl that seemed to have taken over. Finally, however, they made it to a large gravelled driveway with wrought iron gates. The Kettleworth house was impressive, that much was certain. He couldn't help comparing it to the rural friendliness of Penarddun, however. Ria's childhood home was that much more approachable than the austere grandeur of this eighteenth century creation.  
  
"They're doing well for themselves, then," Ria said, dryly. "Nice to know that it wasn't for pecuniary reasons that they left me on the doorstep." Charlie turned to look at her. "Stop staring at me. I'm not senile just yet, you know," she told him cuttingly. "Honestly, anyone would think I was about to smash. Relax, would you!" She was telling him to relax. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? An innocent spectator would probably have assumed that she was his moral support! The two of them wound their way towards the front door. Ria paused hesitantly for a second, and Charlie was about to offer to ring the bell for her when she raised her hand and gave the rope a firm tug, causing a thunderous bell to echo around them. Charlie winced. Somehow this wasn't the heralding he had expected. Before he could comment, however, a man dressed in a morning suit opened the door and peered through an monocle at them.  
  
"Yes?" he demanded, snootily.  
  
"Oh, hello," Ria said, smiling at him. "I believe we are expected - Ariadne Rutherford and Charles Weasley?"  
  
"Ah yes. Come in, please." The man, obviously a butler, held the door open for them, and they found themselves in a hall almost entirely inlayed with marble. Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie noticed Ria's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Wait here, please." He disappeared.  
  
"I have to say, I prefer Arthur," Ria said, softly.  
  
"Dad? What about him?" Charlie looked at her in confusion. What did his father have to do with anything?  
  
"Not your father! Our butler! Much more approachable. This butler is one of those awful specimens who think they're a cut above you if you're not wearing evening wear when you come to call. Well, I'm terribly sorry, but I've never dressed up to visit people yet, and I'm not about to for the likes of him." The man in question's reappearance prevented any response Charlie may have had.  
  
"Follow me, please." They tripped along behind him, and Charlie couldn't help but feel like a naughty child. Suddenly, he was thankful that home to him was the somewhat haphazard Burrow. Had he lived somewhere like this, he'd have been afraid even to breathe.  
  
Charlie's pondering was interrupted when they stopped and the butler threw open two tall, thin, white doors.  
  
"Miss Rutherford and Mr Weasley, Ma'am," he announced, before ushering them in and closing the doors behind them.  
  
* * * *  
  
Charlie was awed by the grandeur of this room. The reds and golds of the décor were far from the faded floral wallpaper that graced his parents' living room. The chairs were all red too, and velvet, and the furniture was of highly polished oak. It was all too perfect, somehow. And in the middle of it all sat a woman. As she turned to face them, Charlie could feel Ria tense beside him. Deep blue eyes rooted him to the spot, but they did not focus on him. Instead they moved to his left to hold the gaze of identical eyes. It was almost a battle for dominance - who would look away first? Finally, it was Ria who triumphed. Helena Kettleworth looked away, defeated.  
  
"Do come in," she said, nervously. "Sit down." Miraculously, Ria took this moment to return to her normal brisk pace, just as Charlie was all too happy to mince his way around. She took a seat on a settee meant for two, and Charlie got the distinct impression that she expected him to join her. He wondered if it was simply a coincidence that Ria's choice of seat was directly opposite to Helena Kettleworth's, thus increasing the confrontational atmosphere. There was no doubt that Helena was Ria's mother. Dark blue eyes were unique to her family - Helena had then, Olivia had them, and Ria had them. "Perhaps you would like some tea?" Silence. "Or maybe coffee? Young people today do seem to have graduated from tea. And cake...? Or do you prefer biscuits?"  
  
"Tea and cake will be fine," Ria said, and Charlie nodded. He noticed that as Helena poured her hands were shaking, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. This led to him wondering if feeling sorry for Helena made him disloyal to Ria - the woman had abandoned his best friend on a doorstep, after all. He was still trying to come to a conclusion when Ria broke the uneasy silence as she set down her cup and saucer.  
  
"I believe you have something to tell me," she said, and Charlie was shocked at her tone - it was completely devoid of emotion. This ice queen bore no resemblance to the Ria he was used to. He looked at her and saw an uncharacteristic hardness in her eyes. This Ria was a force to be reckoned with, those absorbing and frigid orbs seemed to say.  
  
"I- I- Yes- I-" Helena stuttered, squirming uncomfortably. Without realising it, Charlie was squirming too. Ria elbowed him in the ribs before speaking again.  
  
"Yes... I think I'd be a bit speechless too. You could start by telling me just why it was you left me on a doorstep, and we could move on from there," Ria's tone was polite. Too polite. Dangerously polite.  
  
"I didn't abandon you!" Helena exclaimed. Evidently that particular charge had hit home.  
  
"No?" Ria raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps you'd explain what you call it then..."  
  
"You don't understand," Helena said, calmly, sadly. "If you only knew..."  
  
"Well, I'm here, and I'm all ears, so suppose you try and help me understand," Ria suggested, folding her arms across her torso. "Let's just clear the facts first, shall we. June, 1969. Jemima opens the door of a normal family home to retrieve the milk, and finds a baby on the doorstep. Milk forgotten, she picks the baby up. A note is pinned to her shawl. Ariadne, 5^th June, 1969. She classes the baby as abandoned. The Rutherfords, for whom she works, class this as abandonment. And I certainly class this as abandonment. But please, set me straight." As Ria spoke, still in that over-polite tone, Helena looked away, and Charlie would have sworn that she dabbed at her eyes before meeting Ria's gaze.  
  
"For you to understand we have to go back long before you were born," she said, sadly. "To before I was born. Back to when Grindelwald was still alive," Ria gestured to show that she was listening. "Father supported Grindelwald." Helena said, softly. "He broke my mother's heart. More and more he was away from home, doing things that my mother couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams, actions that she certainly couldn't condone. She was young, alone, save for an army of servants, and she had a young daughter to care for. The agony that he caused her was sufficient that she turned to another man for solstice. Just once. But once was enough. I was the product of that affair. Of course, she tried to keep it from my father, not surprisingly. At best he would simply kill the man who had impregnated his wife. At worst he would have killed my mother and me. But somehow, not long after I was born, he found out. there and then he vowed to have nothing to do with me. From that day forth,  
effectively, I had no father." Helena paused again, and looked at Ria almost tentatively. Ria arched one eyebrow slowly.  
  
"I'm sure I can't imagine what that would be like," she shot, and her expression reminded Charlie of the bad guys in his old comics. He did not view this as a good thing. However, Helena was continuing, albeit stutteringly.  
  
"I knew that something was wrong, of course. Father often visited the Nursery, but always to see Fernella. Never me. It was as though I didn't exist. My mother tried to make it up to me, though, and she did a very good job. But I was barely ten when she fell ill, and on my eleventh birthday, she died. I'm convinced that Father refused to send for medical assistance before it was too late. The fact was, I was eleven years old, and essentially, I was an orphan. The only person in the world to care for me was Fernella. Fortunately, Mama died the year that I left for Hogwarts. It was a relief to be away from the repression at home. Suddenly I was everyone's equal and worthy of attention. It was wonderful. I stayed at Hogwarts every Christmas and every Easter. Sometimes Fernie would stay with me. More often than not, she was a dutiful daughter and returned home to Father. Hogwarts was heaven, but it my time there was all too short. I left when I was seventeen, and I had no choice  
but to return to Father." There was another pause, but Ria seemed to have nothing to say. There wasn't really much she could say. "Well, anyway, I decided to get a job, a little independence. Told him it was a temporary thing until I got married, and then got a post at Flourish and Blotts in London. That was deliberate - I didn't want to spend any more time than I had to with Father. I was perfectly happy with my lot at this point - if you exclude the motherless, practically fatherless status of it all. One day a man came into the shop. I served him - he bought some things on credit, and when he signed his name I realised who he was. Andrew Kettleworth, owner of Flourish and Blotts. His family founded the shop at the time of the Industrial Revolution - they were originally from Birmingham. It started out as one shop, and grew to a national level. Well, the two of us got talking - he noticed my accent. Even seven years at Hogwarts hadn't got rid of my northern burr. Next day  
he came in again, invited me for lunch. Things just went from there." It made for fascinating listening, Charlie decided. He was also curious as to how the story ended. Helena spoke again. "I was nineteen when Andy proposed. Of course, I accepted. Who wouldn't - he was charming, witty, intelligent, kind... Everything Father wasn't. A match made in heaven. But there was one small problem. I was only nineteen, and this was back when witches and wizards didn't reach their majority until they were twenty-one. I needed Father's permission to marry Andy, and he wouldn't give it. Fernie was twenty-five by then, and still unmarried. Andy was an ideal catch - pure blooded and rich. My father said that he could marry Fernie instead of me. Of course, Andy refused. It was me he wanted to spend his life with. Then Father got violent. Said that if Andy didn't marry Fernie then he'd kill me." Helena's voice faltered at this point. "Well, what could Andy do? He didn't want to marry Fernie,  
but he wanted me dead even less, and my father would have done as he threatened. Grindelwald had taken whatever light there was in him. Andrew and Fernella were married, and then five years later she had Geoff. Their marriage may not have been perfect, but Geoff was. Andy doted on his son, Fernie adored him and Father watched his every step with pride. I was excluded from it all. Father was scared that I'd seduce Andy or something - I don't know. But seeing them as a happy family - that was too hard for me. So I left Birmingham and secured myself another position in a family business - that of Alexander Rutherford. I worked for him for four years, and during that time his noble nature made a big impression on me. No one was more proud of his children then Alex Rutherford. He had three daughters by the time I left, and everyone knew all about Lucy, Becca and Gemma's development. He was practically the same age as me, and yet I wished Father was more like him." At the mention  
of her father, Ria had sat up, as though she was going to say something. But when Helena looked at her, she said nothing, and so Helena continued. "In 1968, Fernella wrote to me, asking me to come home. I couldn't refuse her. I handed in my resignation and got the train back up to Birmingham. Fernie told me that Father had got himself involved with You-Know-Who. Never mind that he was well into his seventies by then, he was determined to support the new Dark Lord. Fernie was at her wits' end. What could I do? My father hated me, after all. My purpose was simply to support my sister. Then, one night, Andy came home drunk - his friends had taken him out for drinks and he'd had a few too many. The alcohol loosened his tongue. I've never heard more poetic declarations of love. One thing led to another. It didn't take me long to realise that I'd made a mistake. I thought that would be the end of it." Helena looked both of them in the eye, defying them to tell her that her actions  
had been wrong.  
  
"Keeping it in the family, were you?" Ria asked, a sudden angry fire in her eyes. Charlie couldn't really blame her - he'd probably have been far less restrained if it was his mother. The reference to Helena's own mother seemed to have hit the woman hard, but she held her head up and continued.  
  
"Then I found out that I was pregnant." Thus much Charlie had anticipated, and he was pretty sure that Ria would have reached that conclusion also. He wondered how you would term it... Her mother's sister had been married to her father... It didn't bear thinking about. "I did the only thing I could. I ran away. If my father had found out he would have killed you. Besides, I couldn't risk Fernie finding out about Andy and me - it would have destroyed her. So I left Birmingham, and went to Wales. It was quiet there. I loved you even then. I used to sing to you, talk to you, read you stories. Anything that might mean you would remember me. By then I had it all worked out. There was no way I could keep you. My father would have located us eventually, and I loved to you too much to risk losing you. I would have you, and then take you to Kent and leave you with the Rutherfords. They would offer you the kind of life that I couldn't, and you'd be safe with them. I was alone when I  
had you, save for my landlady. It was the hardest day of my life, the fifth day of June 1969. I never forgot the date, you see. Once you were born, I knew I had to send you away. You were a week old when I left Wales. I took the train to Kent and the Isle of Sheppey. I knew exactly where to go. I pinned your name and date of birth to your shawl. It was the last thing I could do for you, and I wanted my child to have the name I gave her. Then I left you there. It broke my heart to see you. You were so tiny, wrapped in a little white blanked that I had crocheted for you myself. I waited until they took you in. Then I left. I took the train back to Birmingham, and found out that Fernie had died not long after I left. The official verdict was accidental death, but I believe my father killed her. He was insane. He was close to death's door himself when I arrived. By the end of the month he was dead. My sister and father were gone." Helena stopped, and suddenly looked very weary.  
Charlie was filled with pity. He didn't agree with what she had done - far from it. But Helena's story did not make for easy listening.  
  
"That's it then?" Ria said, suddenly. "So, answer me this. Why, when you found out that your sister and father were dead, did you not come and get me? There were no more obstacles. It wouldn't have been hard for you."  
  
"You're wrong. I couldn't risk it. I needed Andy. He had Geoff. I had no one. To bring you up...I couldn't risk it."  
  
"What about me?" Ria demanded. "I had no one. Did I mean nothing to you? All this talk of love and not wanting to give me up, that's-" Ria swore, causing Charlie to look at her in shock, "and you know it."  
  
"You had the Rutherfords. I knew they'd be good parents."  
  
"I don't have to listen to this," Ria said, suddenly. She glared at Helena. "I don't care how many problems you had in your childhood. It was sad, yeah, and I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean you can get rid of me because of your own selfish wants. I am not some kind of possession. Charlie! We're leaving." Ria stormed out of the room. Charlie wondered dazedly whether he'd just witnessed an extract from a more sordid episode of Magic! (a wizarding soap opera). He apologised to Helena on Ria's behalf (although in his opinion she didn't deserve an apology; still it was best to be polite) and then raced after her. He didn't like the idea of her wandering around Birmingham after what they'd just heard.  
  
* * * *  
  
Charlie was rather out of breath when he caught up with Ria. They were about to leave when the door opened and a well-dressed man entered. He looked at the two of them, somewhat taken aback.  
  
"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked Ria. "I do, don't I? You're Lucy's sister... Ria, isn't it? But what are you doing here?"  
  
"Ask your wife," Ria replied, shortly. "We were just on our way out." She grabbed Charlie and pulled him through the door. "Adulterer," she muttered, before slamming the door behind them.  
  
* * * *  
  
"What did you do that for?" Charlie demanded, practically running to keep up with his friend.  
  
"What in Merlin's name did you expect me to do?" Ria snapped. "Say `Hi Mum, nice to meet you at last'?"  
  
"Well...no, but being civil would have been nice," Charlie pointed out.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ria replied, cuttingly. "I was supposed to be nice to her. Charlie, I am illegitimate by my aunt's husband. That's practically incestuous. The very thought makes me feel sick. It's like being part of a bloody radio play, for Merlin's sake! This isn't a game, Charlie, this is real. Stop trying to be a superhero, and just listen for once!" That hurt, that Ria thought of him like that. Evidently dejection was written all over his features, because her face softened and she spoke again. "I love you, Charlie. You are my best friend. Never forget that. But this is one thing you're not going to understand."  
  
"You could help me," Charlie said, earnestly. "I could try."  
  
"For twenty-one years, I have thought that I wasn't wanted," Ria began softly. "Twenty-one years. It's a long time. No matter what people have said to the contrary, I've always felt surplus to requirements. My real parents didn't want me, why would anyone else? I thought I'd done something wrong. I distinctly remember an episode at school when I was about eight. I was having an argument with another girl about something - I can't remember what, but I'll never forget what she said. `At least I have a real Mum'. That really hurt. It wasn't true, but it was. I had a mother, a very real mother, and a mother who loved me. But she wasn't my `real' mum. When Lucy heard, she was perfectly willing to hex the girl so she couldn't sit down for a week, but that wasn't the point. As I grew up, I began to wonder - maybe my parents were poor, maybe hadn't the means to keep me. Maybe it was for my own good. But then why didn't they leave a note? Then, today, I found out it was all  
selfishness. Not just Helena Kettleworth's - her father's too. Even her sister's for agreeing to go along with marrying Andy. But there was no justifiable reason as to why she left me and didn't come to get me. And you know what, Charlie? I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of always being the one that's hurt by other people. I'm... I..." Somehow, without realising it, Charlie found that he had taken Ria into his arms, was hugging her, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort in her ear. What she had said had moved him profoundly. He couldn't begin to imagine what she'd been through. All he wanted to do was make it better.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Do you think you'll ever go back?" Charlie asked Ria much later, when the two of them were back at their lodgings.  
  
"Yeah - when hell freezes over," Ria told him, and he believed her. "My mother is selfish. I don't need to go back to know that."  
  
"What about your father?" Charlie asked.  
  
"I hate him," Ria said, shortly. "Not only did he cheat on my aunt, but he also let my mother run away and abandon me. But it's the cheating with his own sister-in-law that makes me hate him. I don't care how much he loved Helena, he was married to Fernella. I don't care how much he'd had to drink. I hate him. I never want to see him again." Charlie nodded. He could understand that. He'd have battered his father to the ground if it had been him. But then, Ria always had been that little bit more refined. Before he could say anything of that nature, however, an owl flew through the open window and stopped by Ria. "It's from Andrew Kettleworth," she told Charlie. As she read through the letter, Charlie was concerned to see shock register on her face, and her fists clenched.  
  
"What does it say?" he asked.  
  
"Listen..." Ria sounded confused. "`Dear Ria, Lena has told me all about the reason for your visit, and I understand now why you were so eager to leave when we bumped into each other. Believe me, your shock was nothing compared to mine. I feel responsible for you as it was through my neglect that the situation ended up like this. I cannot grasp the fact that I have a daughter. You may or may not know that I have always wished for a girl-child. I cannot believe that Helena would keep the existence of one from me for twenty-one years. I still have to grasp the truth and forgive her. I love my wife, but I never knew that she would leave a child, even at a good home. I understand if you never want to see Lena or I again - and I wouldn't blame you, under the circumstances. I also understand that Alexander and Rosamunde Rutherford will always be your parents in every sense of the word. However, I for one would like to get to know my daughter better, now that I know she exists. If  
you are willing then we would very much like to exchange correspondence with you when you return to Romania, and perhaps see you occasionally away from Lucy and Geoff's. Please forgive me for not delivering this message in person, but neither Lena nor I knew where you were staying. Yours, Andy Kettleworth.' He didn't know, Charlie! I've been alive for twenty-one years, and my own father didn't even know I existed!"  
  
"Does that make a difference?" Charlie asked, after giving it a moment to sink in.  
  
"I still don't agree with the adultery," Ria said slowly. "But he didn't know. I can't blame him for what happened to me. I don't know... What do I do now, Charlie?" Ria looked at him pleadingly, eyes begging for a solution.  
  
"Do what your heart tells you," Charlie told her, simply.  
  
"My heart?" Ria laughed, bitterly. "I don't have a heart, Charlie. It's been taken away too many times." Charlie stared at her.  
  
"Ria, if you didn't have a heart you wouldn't hurt," he said, hugging her. "And one day, the hurt will go away. You do know that, don't you?"  
  
"I have to write to Andrew," Ria said. "Maybe one day I'll visit them. In time I'll forgive him. Maybe one day I'll forgive her."  
  
"Maybe. But let's not push things, eh," Charlie said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Ria. No matter what anyone else says, remember, you're a very special lady. One in a million." Gently, Ria kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"And you, Charlie Weasley, are a born flatterer, and a damned good friend, albeit meddlesome."  
  
"And with superhero tendencies," Charlie added, grinning.  
  
"And with superhero tendencies," Ria agreed, laughing. "Thanks, Charlie. Thanks for being there." 


	11. Chapter 11 - A Time for Family

Spiritus aduro

Part XI

                "'_Dear Mr Kettleworth,'_ You don't think that sounds too formal, do you?" Ria looked worriedly at Charlie.  The fact that he was half-naked didn't really bother her.

  "Ri, call him whatever you want to call him.  Call him Bogeyman for all I care," Charlie told her, rummaging through his bag, probably looking for socks.

  "I really get the feeling you aren't taking this seriously," Ria replied, feeling wounded.  She'd expected Charlie to understand.  She had let him see far more of her soul than anyone – let him witness her at her most vulnerable without the layers of carefully crafted shielding that she had generated over the years.  

  "Ria, sweetheart," Charlie began, and Ria was startled to realise that the endearment was not intended to raise a laugh.  "I care deeply about you.  I would walk through fire for you, and lie down as a human bridge for you, you mean that much to me.  Andrew Kettleworth, on the other hand, is nothing.  I really couldn't care less about him.  If he wants to get to know you, that's all well and good for him, but you need to do what you want to do.  And if you don't want to refer to him as Dad, or Sir, or Andy, then call him Mr Kettleworth.  It _is_ his name, after all."  He held her gaze, his hazel eyes keeping her attention.  His eyes were amazing, she had decided long ago.  Most of the time they were mirthful, with a mischievous glint.  But every now and then they became solemn, understanding.  Somehow they reassured her – Charlie understood.  While she loved the mirthful and mischievous Charlie, she felt much safer when his eyes indicated he was in a more sensitive mood – they seemed to caress her and shut out all of the things that could hurt her.  They did that now.

  "_'Dear Mr Kettleworth, I was somewhat surprised to read your letter detailing the incidents surrounding my birth.'_  Charlie, this sounds like a job application, not a letter telling him that I'm not ready to have two different families just yet!"  

Charlie sighed and came to sit next to her.

  "Try something simple," he suggested.  "Say thanks for the letter he sent you, and explain that you were supposed to be back in Romania two days ago, so you won't be able to visit him before leaving, but if he wants to write he's welcome to, and then sign it.  Short and to the point."  

Ria smiled up at him, and found a new piece of writing paper.

  "'_Dear Mr Kettleworth,  Thank you very much for the letter you sent me yesterday – I am grateful that you cleared up any misunderstandings that there may have been.  I regret to say that I am unable to visit you in the near future, as it is imperative that I return to work today.  However, if you wish to contact me, you are welcome to owl.  Yours sincerely, Ariadne Rutherford.'_  How's that?  Still a bit business like?"

  "It's fine," Charlie told her.  

  "Are you ready to go back to work?" Ria asked.

  "Are you?" Charlie countered.

  "Not really," Ria admitted.  "I could do with a few days to get my head around everything, but I don't have that luxury.  Besides, maybe I'll be better off if I'm busy."  

Charlie nodded.

  "Well then, Miss Rutherford, might I suggest that we take that confounded letter to the Owl Office, and then go home?"

  "You may, Mr Weasley, and might I add that I find the motion _most_ agreeable."

*              *                *                *

Returning to Romania was probably the best part of Ria's holiday – if you could call it a holiday at all.  It had hardly been restful – in fact, it had been quite the opposite.  Ria wouldn't wish a similar encounter on her worst enemy.  Still, at least she knew now.  Knowledge, she reflected, was strangely liberating, and yet at the same time it created a prison of its own.  Now that she knew the reason that she had been abandoned, she couldn't create endless fairytales in which an evil wizard had stolen her and had somehow been forced to leave her on the Rutherford's doorstep.  Of course, deep down she'd accepted the improbability of that particular scenario, but the point remained.  She could no longer formulate elaborate stories that crafted her parents as noble.  The truth stung like a knife – she was illegitimate.  Worse than that really.  But at least she knew.  Just as her situation had caused her to spend hours philosophising noble stories for her past, so too had she spent hours in bitter mental agony wondering what she had done that meant her parents didn't want her.  Liberating and confining.  Contradictory terms, really, but true all the same.  

  "Hello, earth to Ria!"  She was suddenly aware of a hand waving in front of her eyes.  She blinked, forcing herself to focus.

  "Sorry, Merri, I was miles away," she apologised.

  "We noticed," the Scot replied, dryly.  "I was asking if you enjoyed your holiday.  It's been very quiet around here without you and Charlie.

  "It was enlightening," Ria hedged.  "But it's nice to be back.  You don't realise how beautiful a place is when you see it every day."

  "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh?" Merri grinned.  "I know what you mean though, hen, so don't mind me.  I think Jon's a bad influence."

  "I heard that!" Jon protested.  The three of them were enjoying a steaming pot of tea and toasted crumpets in front of a cosy log fire.

  "So," Ria began, dragging the word out mischievously.  "What's going on between you two then?"  She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  "Nothing like that, Ariadne Rutherford, and I'll thank you to keep your mind out of the gutter!" Merri said, quickly, and Ria was pleased to note the rising flush that coloured her cheeks.  Nothing like a good bit of fun to make you forget your problems.

  "I don't know what you're talking about.  I'm a picture of innocence, me," she replied, demurely.

  "And pigs might fly," Merri retorted.  "I haven't forgotten about your boyfriend, you know."

  "Who, Bill?"  Ria looked at Merri questioningly.

  "How many significant others do you have?" Jon asked, incredulously.

  "Well…." Ria's eyes twinkled with merriment.  "One in every major city, last time I counted…except New York.  I'm working my way around New York looking for the best deal."  Jon and Merri looked at her, stunned, before breaking into peals of laughter.

  "You make me die," Merri gasped, wiping her eyes.  "Why aren't you in comedy, that's what I want to know!"

  "Well, you know, I did consider it, but there just isn't enough excitement in comedy," Ria winked.  "No one takes you seriously."

  "No, you don't say!" Jon said, dryly, before turning to Merri.  "Merri, darling, fascinating though this conversation is, I'm going to have to love you and leave you."  Merri pouted.

  "Must you?"

  "Kelley and I need to go through some paperwork-" Merri wrinkled her nose.  "I _know_ you think it's pointless, but this _is_ a research institute.  We do have to have some evidence of the good work that we do.  Besides, Kell and I need to go through the claims forms and owl them to the Ministry or none of you will get paid."

  "Oh, I know you have to," Merri agreed.  "It's just annoying.  Bring Kelley back with you for dinner.  She'll need it after going through anything with you!"  Kelley Larkin was the British deputy manager at the reserve, and as such, Jon's deputy.  

  "Will do.  See you later."  Jon dropped a quick kiss on Merri's head and strode out of the room.  Ria waited until the thunk of the door indicated that he had left and then turned to her friend.

  "Come on then – spill everything!  I want _news_!"  

  "Such as…?"  Ria rolled her eyes.  Merri was being typically vague.

  "Has he proposed?"

  "RIA!"  Merri exclaimed, shocked.  "I've only been seeing him for four months.  That's hardly long enough for the two of us to form a life-long bond."  Ria smiled, knowingly.  It was only going to be a matter of time before Merri and Jon made a permanent commitment to each other.  She could tell from the odd glances between them that what they had was far more than infatuation – she'd never seen Jon so alive – it was as though Merri had awoken the long forgotten boy in him and restored his faith in human life.  The wonder with which Merri and Jon regarded each other made Ria feel envious, if she was honest.  She didn't expect that anyone would ever look at her like that, and she didn't want them to.  She'd opened up once, but never again.  It hurt too much when it all went wrong.

  "My parents only courted for six months, you know," she said, slowly.  "There's no law that says you have to wait at least a year before making some sort of commitment to each other."  Merri stood up abruptly.

  "I'm going for a walk," she said, making for the door.  She paused, her hand on the doorknob.  "I'll be back in time for dinner, and Charlie should be in soon.  He was only going to check on Helga – the Horntail, you know.  And I don't want to marry Jon, Ria."

  "You don't now," Ria said, softly, as Merri's footsteps echoed down the hallway.  "But you will."

*              *                *                *

Life in Romania passed as it always had done, and probably always would do.  Autumn faded into winter like a flurry of snow.  Snow was like sand through an hourglass, every inch that fell indicated the passing of time.  Time was precious, but time was easily forgotten, and thus one day Ria entered the flat to find Charlie and Jon raising a Christmas tree in the corner of the sitting room under Merri's direction.

  "A bit early for Christmas trees, isn't it?" she asked idly, holding her hands over the fire to warm them.  Winters in Romania were hard, particularly in the mountains and forests, where the north wind blew so that no one could avoid feeling its bitter chill, bringing the iciness of the cold season.

  "It's the 16th of December, Ri.  Only nine days till Christmas," Merri pointed out.

  "Is that all?" Ria was shocked.  She'd been incredibly busy with work – dragons did not like the cold any more than humans did, but it wasn't as though they could wrap up in thick woolly cloaks.  Of course, their thick hides offered protection against the worse of the elements, but they were cold-blooded creatures, and consequently hibernated.  It would have been easy to assume that the job of the researchers was greatly reduced when the dragons were deep in sleep, but the reality was quite the opposite.  Hibernation was a dangerous state, and many wild dragons did not survive the long winter.  It was the job of researchers like Ria to ensure that the dragons in their care did not suffer any adverse effects from their winter solstice.

  "Honestly, Ri, we've been talking about Christmas for the past three weeks!  Where have you been?" Charlie chastised her.  Now that he mentioned it, she vaguely recalled breakfast conversations focusing around what Charlie would get for his brothers and sister, and just how difficult it would be to get to Bucharest to do shopping in such extreme weather conditions.  Ria hadn't really paid them much attention – she'd been thinking.  She'd done a lot of thinking ever since her trip to Birmingham, but she still didn't have any answers.  She wondered if she ever would.

  "I've been busy," she told him, quietly.  Charlie seemed to notice that she was not her normal bubbly self, and she saw a glint of concern in his eyes.  But she wasn't in the mood for the Spanish Inquisition, so she hastily moved on, pulling herself out of the doldrums.  "When are you going to Bucharest?"

  "Tomorrow, probably," Jon said, authoritatively.  "Do you want to come?"

  "You should," Merri added.  "Jon says they sell absolutely _darling_ rag dolls at the Via Veneficus – Claire and Livvy would love them!"

  "Is that okay, Jon?"

  "I asked you, didn't I?" Jon grinned, and Ria smiled back.  Sometimes it was awkward when your boss was also your friend's boyfriend, but it did have its perks.  "Now, are you going to help decorate this Christmas tree or not?"  Ria grinned and grabbed a bauble, which flickered in all the colours of the rainbow, illuminating the room.

  "Too right I am!"  She had always loved decorating the tree, watching in satisfaction as the great fir in the hall of Penarddun went from being an evergreen to a truly magical vision.  Christmas had always been her favourite time of year, which made it all the more peculiar that she had forgotten about it.

  "I remember when we all decorated the tree at the Burrow," Charlie said.  "Ron and Ginny used to fight all the time about whether we put a star or an angel on the top – I'll never forget the year Fred and George enchanted the angel to look like the picture of Hestia Danube in Witch Weekly – there were practically no clothes on her…  Ginny was distraught, and Mum gave them the telling off of a lifetime."  Ria chuckled.  From what she knew of Charlie's brothers, that sort of behaviour really didn't surprise her.  Merri laughed.

  "Cerys, Dillon and I used to draw straws to see who got to light the candles on our tree," she said, smiling happily.  "We did it the Muggle way, of course – Daddy always said that Christmas was the one time of year that we were the same as any of the other people on our street."

  "That's the thing, though, isn't it," Jon said, thoughtfully.  "Christmas is a time for the family."  _A time for family._  The words echoed in Ria's brain.  _A time for family_.  Jon was right, of course.  Christmas was a time for family…and she had two families.  _A time for family_…

*              *                *                *

                "I wish Merri would hurry up!" Charlie complained, as they stood outside Jon's house, waiting to go to Via Veneficus.  "I think my nose is getting frostbite."  

Ria smiled at him.  It was icy cold, and the dark clouds suggested an imminent blizzard.  She was thankful for what felt like three hundred knitted jumpers underneath her thick, woollen, navy blue cloak, and the Ravenclaw scarf she had pillaged from Lucy when her elder sister finished school – it matched better with the bronze tone of her beret and gloves.  

  "Do noses get frostbite?" Ria asked, curiously.  "And I did tell you to wrap up well…didn't your mum send you a balaclava?  You could have worn that – then there would be no chance of a frostbitten nose."

  "Don't be ridiculous," Charlie complained.  "I _hate_ balaclavas.  They make you look like a crazed bank robber, and I'd probably end up spending a night in the nearest prison.  Not my idea of fun, thank you very much."  Ria grinned.

  "I dunno, I thought it suited you – and it was _such_ a lovely colour!"

  "It was purple and green striped, Ri!"

  "Well, your mum's heart's in the right place," Ria amended.  "Anyway, there are Merri and Jon, so stop complaining."

  "Yes, Ma'am," Charlie replied, mock-saluting.  Ria simply pulled a face at him.

                They Apparated to the Via Veneficus in record time, and Ria was relieved to see that someone had made an effort to clean the streets of the centre of Romanian wizarding shopping.  It was nothing like Diagon Alley – there was an emphasis on the more natural arts rather than on commercialised enterprises, and Ria respected that.  To be honest, she didn't really approve of commercialisation anyway.  She blamed the Ministry's decision to allow companies to advertise at local Quidditch matches for the sudden influx of toy brooms on the market – and some kids _had_ to have a particular make of toy broom.  It was ridiculous.  They stopped suddenly outside a small shop that seemed to sell games.  In the window, an ornately carved chess set sat in pride of place.  Charlie looked at it in delight.

  "Ron would _love_ that," he said happily.

  "Charlie, you said that Ron only played with your Grandfather's chessmen," Ria protested.  She had heard a lot about Ron's legendary talent with a chessboard.

  "Not the chessmen, Ri, the board.  Look at it!"  Ria did as she was told, and understood why Charlie was so happy.  Like the chessmen it was beautifully carved, with intricate detail around the edge.  

  "It's beautiful," she said, wishing that she played chess so that she could fully appreciate the gift.

  "Let's go inside and look," Charlie said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the shop.  "You two go on without us," he told Jon and Merri.  "We'll meet you in two hours outside the café, okay?"  Jon nodded.

  "What was that for?" Ria asked.

  "Well, we didn't really need to tag along with them," Charlie told her.  "Let them have some quality time together."

  "I never had you pegged as a matchmaker, Mr Weasley, but then, you learn something new every day."  Ria linked her arm through his.  "Oh look!  There's the shopkeeper!  We can ask about your chessboard."  

                Two hours later they arrived at the café, flushed and pleased with themselves.  With Ria's multitude of nieces and nephews and Charlie's siblings, they'd been hard pushed to fit all their shopping into the allocated time, but they had managed it…just.

  "Did you get everything you wanted?" Merri asked, as the slid into the chairs opposite her and Jon.

  "Just about," Ria nodded, while Charlie ordered them both hot chocolate and a sticky bun.  "I love this café," she breathed rapturously, completely changing the subject.  "It's so Olde Worlde!"  It was – the rustic cosiness meant that you were hard pushed to find a nicer café in the whole of Bucharest, and Ria wouldn't want to, anyway – nowhere else served cakes and pastries quite like those sold here.

  "It _is_ rather nice, isn't it," Jon agreed, sounding very much as though he thought he was responsible for it all himself.  Ria grinned at him.

  "Maybe Merri will help you decorate your house like this," she said, her meaning clear.  Jon didn't rise to the bait, however.

  "Perhaps," he nodded.  "So – what did you get everyone?"  Ria and Charlie launched into detailed explanation of their many and varied purchases, often talking over each other in their enthusiasm.  Merri laughed suddenly.

  "What's so funny?" Charlie demanded.

  "You two," she replied, through her giggles.  "You're like a couple of kids."

  "Just as well too," Charlie replied.  "Didn't you know that Christmas is a children's festival?"  Merri just smiled and sipped her coffee.  

  "I don't believe you drink that stuff," Ria said, incredulously.  "It tastes absolutely vile!"

  "It's lovely," Merri insisted.  "Much better than tea."  Ria looked as though someone had just told her that the world was square.

  "The only beverage better than tea is chocolate," she said, self-righteously.  "And even that is very very close."

  "Ri, whatever you say, she's still going to be a coffee-addict," Charlie pointed out.

  "But coffee's bad for you!" Ria complained.  "It has all sorts of bad things in it…drugs.  I see the Muggle newspapers!  I _know_!"

  "Tea has more caffeine in it than coffee, if that's what you mean," Merri informed her.  "Now eat your cake, there's a good girl," she winked, and Ria grudgingly settled down to enjoy her bun.  Coffee better than tea, indeed.  Whatever next!

*              *                *                *

                The sounds of an old Romanian carol being sung by a child filtered through house.  Listening to it, Ria smiled.  Like most of their compatriots, Esterina's family were all devout Catholics, and they took Christmas very seriously.  Ria was on her way up the stairs to give the Romanian family their Christmas gifts, and invite them to tea on Boxing Day.  Balancing the pile of presents in one hand, she rapped the wooden door with the other, and was greeted by Paulo, Esterina's husband.

  "Hello, Paulo," she said, speaking clearly.  The family understood English, but their grasp of the language wasn't so good that you could have a prolonged conversation with them.  They were descended from Romany gypsies, and although Esterina flatly refused to conform to the stereotypical nomadic gypsy image, they spoke a Romani dialect peculiar to their own race.  In the time that she'd been living in Romania, Ria had picked up a fair amount of Romanian, but she had yet to fully understand any form of Romani.  

  "Ah, Miz Ria," Paulo replied, slowly.  "You be coming in, no?"

  "It's okay, Paulo, I only wanted to give you these," Ria explained, offering him her load.  The dark haired man smiled at her before replying.

  "Come in, and ve vill gif Engleesh tea."  They had never completely understood the concept of tea with milk, but Ria was not sold on the citrus variety that the Romanians advocated.  A little girl appeared in front of her father.

  "Pleeeeez!" four-year-old Natasha implored, gazing at Ria with large dark brown eyes fringed by long black lashes.  Her chubby face was surrounded by a halo of dark curls, and Ria found it impossible to refuse her anything.

  "If you're sure?" 

Paulo nodded.  

  "My vife is vif de bebe, yes?"

  "That's okay," Ria assured him.

  "Ve are, how do you call it…ve are having ze guests during ze festivities?"  Ria nodded, privately wondering how on earth they'd fit any more people in their flat – apart from Natasha, there was baby Elena, ten-year-old Marya and three boys, Alexei, Marcus and Jean.  "It ees time for family, you understand?"  

  "I understand," Ria nodded again.  _Time for family._  The words clung to her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to banish them.  _Time for family_.  Jon had said the same thing.  For reasons that she couldn't understand, the Kettleworths kept popping into her head.  

  "Miz Ria?"  Esterina appeared in the doorway.  "Ees everything vell?"

  "Fine, thank you," Ria assured her.  "I was just thinking - that's all.  How's baby Elena?"

  "She ees vell, thanking you for asking."

*              *                *                *

  "Ria!  Ri!  Wake up!"  Ria was rudely awoken from pleasant slumbers by Charlie, who was shaking her.

  "Mmmph," she muttered.  "Whassatime?"

  "Dunno," he replied, blithely.  "Bout five, six, I expect." 

Ria groaned.

  "Go back to _bed_!" she whined. 

  "No," he said, irreverently.  "I want to talk to you."  Ria contemplated hexing Charlie, but decided against it, and instead raised herself up on her pillows, slowly, glaring at her friend.  Charlie smiled.

  "Merry Christmas," he said, offering her a small box, carefully gift-wrapped.  "It's from Bill," he explained, hastily, noticing her concerned look.

  "And you felt you had to get me up at half past five in the morning to give me this because…?"

  "That's not why I got you up this early.  But I thought you might be more willing to keep your eyes open if I offered you something."  Ria glared.  It was far too early for mind games.

  "Get to the point, Charles," she said, tartly.

  "I want to know what's been bothering you lately," he said, simply.  Ria stared at him incredulously.

  "And you felt you had to get me up before the birds to do this?  Honestly, Charlie, you could have waited until midday to ask me that!"

  "Don't be flippant," Charlie chastised her.  "There's no point in denying it.  You've been in a world of your own for ages, and whatever's on your mind is upsetting you.  I don't want it to ruin your Christmas.  So tell me what the matter is, and maybe we can work it out."

  "I forgot," Ria began, bitterly, "you're Charlie Weasley.  If you can't fix it no one can.  Get out of my head.  I can look after myself, thank you very much!"

  "No, you can't," Charlie said, calmly.  Ria glared at him.  "There's no point in looking at me like that, Ariadne Olivia Rutherford, because it won't do you any good.  Just tell me what's bothering you.  A problem shared is a problem halved, or so my mother has always said."

  "Get lost, Charlie."  He was right, of course.  He always was – and that was what irritated her.  She hated that he could read her so well – it made her feel vulnerable, and vulnerability was one thing that she couldn't afford.

  "Ria," he said, softly.  "Trust me." 

She averted her eyes from his, suddenly scared of him.  He could hurt her more than anyone could, and he knew, as she did, that she trusted him already.  That was what scared her.  Trust.  Trust could lead to betrayal, and she wasn't sure that she could live with the knowledge that Charlie had betrayed her.  

"Ri."  He gently her turned her face to his so that she was forced to look into his eyes and acknowledge the noble sympathy in them.

  "You don't know how lucky you are," she told him, her voice so soft it was inaudible.  "You have no idea what I'd give to have the kind of security you have.  A loving family.  A good job.  Self-worth.  What have I got to live for?"  Charlie hadn't been expecting that, she could tell from the shock that registered on his face.

  "Us," he said, simply.  "Me, Merri, Jon, your parents and your sisters, your nieces, Bill.  So many people love you, Ria.  Don't ever doubt that.  Ever.  I don't know everything that happened to you, and I'm not going to pry, but don't let the scum that did this to you get what they want.  You're worth thousands of them."  

Ria blinked hard, and succeeded in keeping back the tears.

  "I wish you knew," she said.

  "You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?" Charlie said, squeezing her hand.  "I promise you that no matter what, I won't betray you.  You mean too much to me for that."

  "I know," Ria agreed, softly, startled that he could read her that well.  "But you have to understand, Charlie…some things hurt to talk about.  Even with you…especially with you.  I don't want you to pity me."

  "I don't pity you, Ri.  I don't want to pity you.  I want to help you – you need to move away from the past and focus on the future.  If that means I have to get up at the crack of dawn every morning for the next sixty years to counsel you, then so be it."  

Ria grinned weakly at him.

  "Charlie, would you say Christmas is a time for family?" she asked.

  "Oh, definitely!" Charlie's eyes lit up.  "Christmas isn't Christmas without the arguing at the Burrow – you'll have to visit us at some point to understand."

  "That would involve you telling your parents about me."  Secretly, Ria was dying to tell her own parents about the 'Charlie situation' as Becca called it.  After the Kettleworth incident, Ria had told her elder sister of her situation.  Becca had been understandably shocked that her brother-in-law's father was also related to her baby sister, but had taken the news remarkably well.  Ria had told her about Charlie at the same time, and Becca had urged her to tell her parents of her living arrangements, but Ria was still not entirely sure that her father wouldn't drag her back from Romania if he heard, and she didn't want to risk that.

  "I have told them," Charlie said, matter-of-factly.

  "And your mum hasn't married us off?"

  "Well…I told them that you existed.  I didn't mention that you lived with me."  Ria laughed.

  "Why did you tell them?" 

  "Well…  Mum and Dad know about Hermione – Ron's best friend - you know, and Mum hasn't actually said that Ron should marry her yet, so I kind of thought what's the harm in telling the truth?"

  "Charlie, Ron and Hermione are twelve.  They should not be contemplating marriage.  Your mother is not so out of the loop that she wouldn't realise that."

  "Well, anyway…I told her that I thought you would be suitable for Bill, and that got her off of my back."  Ria laughed again.  "But that's enough of me… Why did you ask about Christmas and families?"

  "The Kettleworths are my family too, aren't they," Ria explained.  "I think I should at least let them know that I don't hate them.  I think I should visit them again – on my own this time."

  "Are you sure?"  Charlie looked dubious.

  "We've all had time to get used to the idea of me being related.  I promise that I won't kill Helena, Charlie, if that's what you're worried about."

  "Good," Charlie looked at her curiously.  "Is that what's been worrying you?  The Kettleworths?"  Ria nodded.  "Well…you go and see them, and come back and then we can put the whole affair behind us.  Now – what do you think Father Christmas brought everyone?"  Ria rolled her eyes.  How he could be so charming one minute and childish the next she would never know.

*              *                *                *

                Ria smiled as she gently set her suitcase down in the hall.  Charlie had evidently been waiting up for her – or trying to.  His head was cradled in his arms on the kitchen table, a mug of something in front of him.  In sleep he looked oddly innocent, and for a minute Ria stood surveying him with a deep feeling of love.  Not romantic love, of course – the very idea made her cringe.  Romantic love was a damaging entity, at least for her.  But the protective love she felt for Charlie was no less powerful.  She was about to find a blanket to cover him with when he awoke.

  "Guh," he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.  "Ria!  You're back!"  He stood up and enveloped her in a hug.

  "That's right," she agreed, quietly, somewhat subdued by her trip.

  "Do you want to talk?"

  "You're tired."

  "Not the question I asked," Charlie looked at her again, appraisingly.  "You want to talk.  Don't argue.  Let me get my coat, and then we can go for a walk."

  "It's midnight!" Ria exclaimed, but her protests fell on deaf ears.

                Ten minutes later the two of them were walking towards the dragon reserve, guided only by the light of the stars.  In spite of the snow and bitter cold, the night sky was clear.  The stars offered Ria inner peace such as she had rarely – if ever – experienced.  

  "So…?" Charlie looked at her expectantly.  Ria sighed, before beginning.

  "I don't know what I was expecting," she admitted.  "Maybe I wanted it to be Happy Families…anyway, nothing turned out quite as I imagined.  I think Helena is scared of me, to be honest."  

Charlie nodded understandingly. 

  "It's understandable," he agreed.  "She's nervous of you – you're an unknown entity, and one that's been plaguing her for more than two decades."

  "That's not my fault," she replied.

  "I know," Charlie agreed.  "But that doesn't make realising that you aren't a baby any more easy for her."

  "Andy seemed to take it better than Helena.  Weird, really.  Helena's always known – Andy's had to adapt.  Do you know what I liked best?  He didn't try to be my father.  He just wanted to get to know me.  Know silly things, like my favourite flavour of Every Flavoured Bean.  It's bizarre – I looked at him, and in some ways I saw myself.  The way he moves his hands when he talks, his sense of humour.  It was like talking to myself sometimes."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  "I don't know," Ria replied, slowly.  "I suppose it's a relief that there are other people like me out there.  At the same time, its hard to reconcile myself to the whole situation."

  "Have you?"  Charlie looked at her sympathetically.

  "I think so.  The Rutherfords will always be my family, but it's nice that the Kettleworths know about me…I don't feel angry with them any more.  It's like I've made peace…with myself."


	12. Chapter 12 - Not Always Easy

Spiritus aduro

Part XII

  "So, Ria," Charlie began, and Ria glanced up to see him looking thoughtful.  "Who are you taking to the Valentine's Ball?"

  "I'm not going," Ria told him, firmly.  "I hate Valentine's Day.  Waste of time and effort, if you ask me.  You arrive feeling rotten, leave feeling rotten, and get falling-over drunk in the interim, which means you wake up with a splitting headache the following morning.  Why bother?" 

  "Because it's fun," Charlie explained, patiently.  Ria sighed.  He was on one of his 'let's plague Ria until she gives in' kicks. "You should come.  It'll be a laugh."

  "No one's asked me," Ria responded, not looking up from the letter she was writing.  "And I'm not about to solicit anyone, so you can scratch that idea."

  "Come with me, then," Charlie said.  Ria looked at him, startled; she'd imagined he'd take some pretty girl and make the most of a rare opportunity.  She was hardly the most beguiling of choices.  If he took her then he would know the result.  A quick peck on the cheek and a thank you.  And that was if he was lucky.

  "Did you not hear me say, 'I'm not soliciting'?" she demanded.  "Plus, taking me to the Ball will only encourage the Ria and Charlie rumours, which are blatantly not true."  

  "I'll tell them I'm taking you on Bill's behalf," Charlie countered.  "That's perfectly reasonable, and what kind of man would steal his brother's girlfriend?"

  "What kind of man, indeed," she replied, her eyes glazing over, and her expression suddenly sobering.  "You should know that Bill and I aren't together, though."

  "WHAT?!!!" Charlie looked at her incredulously.  "Why not?!  Who broke it off?"

  "I did," Ria said, softly.  "Don't look at me like that.  I wasn't being fair to Bill.  I was only involved in a relationship – if you can even call it a relationship – with him because it offered me an easy option.  I didn't have to worry about being hurt.  Letters don't constitute love.  I didn't love him, Charlie, so I told him that it wasn't working."  She pleaded for understanding, but Charlie turned away.

  "How did Bill take it?" he demanded.

  "He seemed relieved, to be honest.  I think he knew as well as I did that it wouldn't work out.  And you needn't look at me like that, Charles Weasley.  You're not perfect yourself, you know.  At least I had the courage to break it off."  She knew she was being defensive, but it had taken a lot of courage to admit that she didn't love Bill, even to herself.  Charlie smiled at her, tentatively.

  "So – there's nothing to stop you from coming with me then, is there?  It _will_ be fun, Ria!  Come to the Ball with me.  Please?"  Ria glared at him.

  "Did you not hear anything that I said?"

  "Sure, I heard everything.  But you're coming, even if I have to drag you to the hall kicking and screaming.  It'll be fun, and you shouldn't spend all your time moping.  It will do Bill good to have a girl break up with him, rather than the other way around.  Say you'll come!"

  "Maybe," Ria said, grudgingly.  Charlie grinned.

  "Fantastic."

                The Valentine's Ball was held at the reserve every two years.  It was a multi-cultural event, offering colleagues from each of the countries represented at the reserve an opportunity to get to know each other.  Ria knew Charlie suspected that it was also held to give the female population an opportunity to get dressed up.  Merri's obsession with _Charmed Couture – every witch's favourite fashion magazine and five times winner world's most peculiar fashion sense according to the front page – served to confirm his suspicions.  She wasn't really bothered about such things, but this preconception of his could be used to her advantage – maybe she could talk him out of it._

  "You do realise that I don't have anything to wear, don't you?" she said, suddenly.  Charlie rolled his eyes.  

  "If you're trying to tell me that you don't have dress robes then I don't believe you," he replied.  "You're the daughter of a very important nobleman.  They have to attend official functions all the time."

  "I'm the youngest daughter of a second son – granted, a second son with a title of his own, but it's a life peerage, not hereditary – and in the past four years I've been to no official functions.  Besides which, you don't generally bring your very expensive designer dress robes to a dragon reserve."

  "I did."

  "No offence, Charlie, but I doubt your dress robes cost you all of two months wages."

  "Bloody Hell, Ria, what on earth possessed you to spend that much on dress robes?"

  "My high ranking nobleman father's official functions," Ria replied, smirking.  "But anyway, as a consequence of the obscene amount of money I spent on said robes, I didn't bring them to Romania with me."

  "Do you only have one set?"

  "I _had about six sets of dress robes when I was sixteen," Ria told him.  "I was considerably fatter at sixteen, though.  I've only worn them once – to Gemma's wedding.  I don't want to wear dress robes, anyway."  What she meant was, I don't want to wear those dress robes again.  But she wasn't going to tell Charlie that– he'd only dig out of her exactly why she didn't want to wear them, and she didn't want to tell him that either._

  "What on earth do you mean, 'I don't want to wear dress robes'?" Charlie demanded.  "What else are you going to wear to a Ball?"

  "A ball gown," Ria replied.  "I've always wanted one.  Ever since Martin's girlfriend wore them to his sister's wedding – in the Mad Muggle Comics, you know.  And I hate dress robes." 

                Charlie just smiled and nodded.  It was evident that he didn't know what she was talking about.  Ria resigned herself the inevitable.  She was going to the Valentine's Ball.  Well, if she had to go, she might as well enjoy the shopping opportunity that presented itself.

*              *                *                *

                "What am I going to _wear?!" Merri wailed, looking positively distraught.  Ria fought the urge to laugh – Merri looked so comical – and hastened to reassure her._

  "Whatever you wear, you'll look lovely," she soothed.

  "But I don't _have any dress robes!"_

  "So buy some," Ria said, matter-of-factly.

  "All very well for you to say, but which ones?!"  Merri gestured at the magazine in her lap.  "I'm too fat for those, and too stunted for those, and too redheaded for those…"

  "Stop panicking," Ria replied, peering over her shoulder.  "Jade," she pronounced, almost to herself.  "That will go well with your hair.  Or white…but if you wear white Jon might think you're trying to covertly marry him.  Definitely jade."  With the air of one much practised in the art of flicking, she found a page with a variety of suitable robes.

  "You've done this before!" Merri said, accusingly.

  "Of course," Ria laughed.  "Well, looked at catalogues, anyway.  When I was very small – four or five-ish – my parents went to official functions fairly frequently, so Mums _always had a copy of the latest fashion magazine handy.  When they were out of date, she'd give them to me.  I used to spend hours poring over them, imagining the little old ladies at church magically transformed by the beautiful robes in there, dreaming that one day __I'd go to a ball and have the most gorgeous robes myself."_

  "And did you?"

  "Not precisely.  By the time I was old enough to go to such things, I'd developed my very own sense of style.  Let's just say that Mums and I could never quite agree over what robes I should get.  In the end, I designed them and then Mums took them to her tailor, and Genevieve compromised for us."  Ria laughed again.  "It's just as well that she did, really, because some of my designs were positively hideous.  Mums had such a time with me.  Lucy, Becca and Gemma were all such girly girls, and then there was me…well, I started out girly enough, but by the time I started at Hogwarts I'd turned into a little tomboy.  Which is probably why I'm here now, rather than at home being all domesticated with hordes of tiny children clustering around me."

  "What about Aiden?"

  "Aiden, Merri, was a bastard.  But don't tell anyone I said that."  Ria grinned to hide the pain that the name still caused her to feel, even now.

  "I didn't mean it like that."  Merri was perceptive enough to realise that Ria didn't want to talk about it.  "I meant, when you were engaged to Aiden.  Didn't that reek of domestication?"

  "I don't know," Ria said, honestly.  "I don't particularly care."  That was a lie.  But Merri didn't need to know that.  It was time to change the subject.  "Those would look fantastic on you," she said, pointing to some feathery-light looking robes.  

  "I'm too fat," Merri said, easily distracted.

  "It worries me that you have these delusions of obesity," Ria said, bluntly.  "Repeat after me.  I am not fat."

  "I know you're not fat.  I'm talking about me!"

  "Merri," Ria said, warningly.  "These robes will look lovely on you.  Pretty much any of them would, actually, and I doubt Jon will really be interested in what you're wearing."

  "You mean I'm going to all this trouble and he won't even notice?"

  "Probably not, no.  On the other hand, he's as used to these formal occasions as I am – possibly even more so – and it's standard to compliment your companion on their choice of clothing, so maybe he will.  I wouldn't worry.  Dress up for yourself; that's what it's all about, isn't it."

  "I think there's more to it than that," Merri objected.  "I think it's more to do with friends, and relationships, and love."

  "Maybe," Ria agreed.  "At least, for some people.  I think for Charlie it's a good opportunity to combine his two favourite pastimes – other than animals – watching pretty girls and plaguing me."

  "You're far too cynical," Merri laughed.  "Charlie loves you, you know.  He hasn't so much as looked at a girl for ages."

  "Sure he has," Ria countered, easily.  "It's just that you don't know about it."  She shook her head.  Merri was looking somewhat pensive.  Merri was the Captain of the Ria-and-Charlie-really-should-fall-in-love-and-live-happily-ever-after club, though, so she was probably concocting a plan that would result in the two of them snogging.  Snogging – such a horrible word.  Coarse, somehow, not at all affectionate.  Kissing was nicer.  But kissing didn't have the same romantic implications.  She kissed her parents, her sisters and her friends.  But kissing men – men who weren't related, that is – was different.  And she didn't like to think of it as snogging.  Ria shook herself.  What was the world coming to when she whiled away time contemplating various synonyms for a spontaneous – or occasionally calculated – act of affection.

*              *                *                *

                Ria had fought to suppress the sudden swell of excitement that settled in the pit of her stomach when a parcel addressed in her mother's flowery yet readable writing two days before the ball.  Her ball gown.  Or dress robes.  Or a combination of the two.  Whatever they were.  Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, she slit open the accompanying letter, and between bites of toast began to read. 

_  'My darling Ria,  Your father and I were more than a little surprised at your last owl.  We didn't realise that they had such occasions in Romania.  I must say, darling, it all sounds frightfully exciting, but why you couldn't wear the dress robes you had for Gemma's wedding, I really don't know.  They cost you a small fortune, and really, I'm not sure why you had that flash London designer make them for you – Genevieve could have done equally well, and for half the price-'  Her mother was right, of course – Genevieve could probably have concocted something much prettier.  But that had not been her motive in buying designer robes.  It had been a bone of contention for her mother at the time, but Ria had thought that she had forgotten all about it by now.  Evidently the maternal memory was not waning any faster than it had been when she was still at school.  That is to say, not at all.  Ria sighed.  She was alone in the house – both Charlie and Merri were on early shifts, both excited because their broody charges were…well, broody.  Ria, on the other hand, was working the late shift, and consequently could enjoy her mother's lengthy epistle in peace.  '__- Oh, and that reminds me – Gemma is expecting again.  We're all hoping for a little brother for Jessica, but it doesn't really matter either way, as long as the baby's healthy.  It's due in November, and we're all awfully pleased, as I'm sure you will be when the news reaches you.  I expect that Gemma has written to you herself, but I thought I ought to let you know, just in case.'  Ria wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.  She adored her nieces and nephews, and the prospect of another was always welcome.  What touched her was her mother's faith in the relationship between her younger daughters.  As children they had been exceptionally close, particularly once both Lucy and Becca were at Hogwarts.  Gemma had ruined that relationship.  Ria could forgive many things and accept even more, but Gemma's actions had been unforgivable.  Consequently, correspondence between herself and her sister was minimal, brief and to the point.  Reluctant though she was to admit it, two-year-old Jessica had barely seen her maiden Aunt.  In some ways, Ria felt like she was cheating the child.  She saw as much as she possibly could of Lucy's children; Olivia, Edward and Victoria, and was equally besotted with Becca's brood, Claire, Matthew and baby Louise.  But Gemma's daughter was another matter entirely.  Ria desperately wanted to sit down with Jess, have a proper conversation, paint, draw, anything.  But her very existence was a painful reminder of something that Ria would rather forget, and so she took what was, perhaps, the easy option.  She avoided her.  Oh, she sent cards for birthdays and Christmas and so on.  But she never actually went as far as to bond with Jess, not in the same way as she had with her other nieces and nephews.  She hoped that one day she would be able to forgive Gemma.  Even more, she hoped that one day little Jessica would be able to forgive her.  Until then, she had learnt to live with the split, take solace in her isolation.  Use distance as an excuse.  She fooled no one, not even herself.  But she put on a front, and after all, wasn't that what life was about?  She didn't know, and there was no point in wasting the morning worrying about what could not or would not be changed.  Once more she picked up the letter.  __'Lucy, Geoff and their children have taken Gemma and Jessica with them to Norfolk for a little holiday.  Gemma always gets so…I don't know…lonely, I suppose, but that's not the right word, because he's always there.'  Her mother knew better than to write his name.  __'Anyway, Lucy thought it would be a good idea for her to do__ something for once, and so off they went.  Jess and Vicky will be good playmates for each other, and somehow young Livvy persuaded both Lucy and Becca to let Claire go too.  I have no idea how that child manages it – she seems to have the whole adult world wrapped around her little finger – even Geoff, strict father though he is, doesn't seem able to resist those big blue eyes of hers.  She's so much like you were at the same age; it makes me feel quite nostalgic to watch her.  So, anyway, Lucy ended up taking the Terrible Two with her, as if having Vicky and Jess wasn't going to be enough of a challenge.  On the other hand, Claire and Livvy are generally good girls, and really, one can't expect more of children their age.'  Rosamunde Rutherford had digressed.  Ria smiled, slightly wistfully.  Her mother always digressed – always had done always would do.  It was one of those constants in life; just as the sun would go on rising and setting, her mother's letters would always follow a different tangent from the line she had intended.  __'And Ria, they're such pretty children.  We had them to tea the other day, for your father's birthday – he says thank you for the socks.  Why do you buy him socks every year, darling?  He must have drawers and drawers full by now! – and they were all dressed up in the most adorable party frocks, looking like little cherubs.  Claire in particular.  I wonder if she'll ever cut her hair…it would be such a shame if she did.  Those beautiful blonde curls…grown women would love hair like hers.  _

_                I can see you laughing, my dear, at my standard digression.  I did start out intending to discuss your ball gown.  And I know I've said it before, but really, you should use those that you wore to Gemma's wedding again.  They really did suit you.  Still, you've grown up with good taste for what suits you, so I shall stop being a nagging mother and leave you to live your life.  Just make sure you get someone to take a photograph and send it to me.  Your father and I want to see our baby in all her finery.  _

_                From the fact that you are going to a ball, I must assume that a man has asked you.  I know you, Ria, and I know that you would not go to a ball – and a Valentine's Ball at that – if someone had not requested that you do so.  You were never so keen on those things; they were really more suited to your sisters, Gemma in particular.  All I wish to say, darling child, is be careful.  Just as I know you wouldn't go to any ball on your own, so I know how easily hurt you are.  I know you guard your heart with a shield of titanium, but my dear girl; sometimes it's best to let people in.  You've been through a lot in the past, I know, and if I had the words to make it better then I would.  This man, whoever he is, must be very persuasive, and you must think a lot of him to allow him to take you out on Valentine's Day of all days.  So, if he is special, and if you do have feelings for him, then don't hide.  Don't let the past ruin the future.  Take a risk.  You only live once.  I want all my girls to be happy, and in my heart of hearts I know that, for all you say that you enjoy what you do, and love your life, you are not happy.  You lack the one thing that will fulfil you.  Always you have been a person who craves affection, and you are depriving yourself of that.  I understand why, but don't let one hurdle on the road ground you forever.  You mean so much to your father and myself – we've always thought of you as our very own.  I know that meeting the Kettleworths unsettled you.  Always know that we will be here for you.  Ever your affectionate Mother.'  Ria read the words again.  Her mother had always been perceptive, particularly so towards her four girls.  And she was right about Ria being afraid to love.  Even so, Ria had no intention of making any moves on Charlie.  Her best friend was just that – a friend.  She adored him, and rightfully so, but she could not risk the breakdown of the relationship that had come to mean more to her than any other.  Nothing was worth risking it.  Charlie was her lifeline, and if something came between them, then surely she would drown._

*              *                *                *

                It seemed to Ria that, having agreed to attend the Ball, it was now impossible to escape it.  Jon, by virtue of being the boss of the English employees, was actively involved in developing the format of the Ball, and by default, Merri was also included.  Consequently, Ria should not have been surprised when she walked in after work one night to find the two of them discussing flowers.  However, hatching time involved much hard work on the part of the researchers, and she had been getting the bare minimum of sleep for a week.  Sleep-deprived, her natural assumption on seeing the two of them poring over what seemed to be wedding bouquets was shock mingled with joy, which she demonstrated in a typically Ria fashion.

  "Merri?  Don't you need a ring before you discuss flowers?"

  "You what?"  Merri turned to her, distracted.  Then, realising the gist of her friend's words, she laughed.  "These are flowers for the Ball, Ria, dear.  Nothing more sinister than that."

  "Oh."  Secretly Ria was disappointed.  She quite fancied the idea of going to Merri and Jon's wedding.  Still, in the words of the age-old idiom, all good things come to those who wait, and Ria was _sure that nuptials were inevitable._

  "Come and help," Jon said, companionably, the conversation thus far having gone completely over his head.  "Merri likes the lilies, but I prefer the roses."

  "Why not have both?" Ria demanded, perfectly reasonably.  "Although," she pondered, "if you have completely white flowers it will look like a wedding reception."  She considered the options.  "It's a Valentine's Day Ball, right?"  Jon nodded.  "So ideally, the colour scheme should be pink or red?"  Jon looked blank.  "Just smile and nod, Jon.  I'd say go with pink lilies and red roses, although it will cost a fortune if you do.  You _could get away with white lilies, I suppose..."_

  "Have you done this before?" Merri demanded.  

  "Not quite," Ria smiled sheepishly.  "When I was very small, it was customary to entertain regularly in the noble circles - I met Jon at a party when I was five - and there would _always without fail be flowers.  At Penarddun there's the most amazing hothouse, and I used to watch William - the gardener - cut them and arrange them.  Then, as the Dark Lord gained more power, parties became a non-entity.  Suddenly it wasn't safe to have large gatherings of people, because surely they would attract Death Eaters by the dozen, and who would want for the Dark Mark to soar above their house?  More to the point, who would want to risk a house full of leading Aurors, because I'm convinced that most of my parents' friends were in some way involved with them, although Daddy has never actually told me this.  Anyway, as soon as Harry Potter got rid of _him_, parties were back in Vogue.  Not that I liked them - by that time I was a rebellious eleven-year-old - but I picked up a good few tips on flower arranging."_

  "You really met Jon when you were five?" Merri asked, and Ria got the distinct feeling that she'd not paid any attention to the rest of the conversation.

  "Yes," she nodded.  "He was eight, and didn't have much time for me.  That was the last party before they stopped, wasn't it Jon?"

  "It was," Jon agreed.  "And you were the cutest and most annoying child in the whole house.  You were, I recall, very into dancing at the time, and constantly badgering any available male to waltz with you."

  "Shhh," Ria laughed.  "I've been trying to create an adventure-girl image."

  "Adventure-girl?  You?" Jon snorted.  "And pigs might fly.  Deep down, Miss Rutherford, you'll always be a country girl who's _very attached to her home.  Not that you'll ever admit it."_

  "Hark at the psychologist," Ria retorted, suddenly wanting to be alone.  "I'll leave you two to argue over flowers, then - I'm starving.  Is Charlie in yet?"  Merri shook her head, and Ria ducked out of the cosy sitting room and into the kitchen.  She leaned her forehead against the cool of the wall.  It had been foolish, that flight of fancy, the reliving of her childhood.  Memories of the past inevitably caused her to feel the pain of the present and sapped away her hope for the future.  She had grown up in dark times - her birth had coincided with the begin of the Dark Lord's rise to supreme power, and for much of her childhood she had worried that her father might never come home.  

*              *                *                *

  "Ri?" Charlie walked into the kitchen ten minutes later, to find her with damp eyes and telltale tearstains on her cheeks.  "Ria?  What's the matter?"

  "Nothing," she hiccoughed.  "I'm just being silly, that's all."

  "Ria, you don't cry for nothing."

  "I have an allergy," she countered, irritably.

  "A plausible excuse, normally," Charlie agreed.  "But you were fine this morning, and nothing has changed in here since then.  What's wrong?"

  "I was just thinking about when I was little," she murmured, burying her face in his chest, and feeling embarrassed for doing so.  Not that Charlie seemed to mind, he simply guided her to a chair, and sat down opposite her, offering her a clean handkerchief, and waiting for her to talk.  "Do you remember what it was like back then?  When every day another family were victims?"

  "Yes," he said, shortly, and she was surprised to see that his eyes echoed the fear in her own.  

  "Were you ever so paralysed with fright that you couldn't even _speak because if you did then someone you loved would die?"_

  "Yes."  Charlie was firm.  Ria looked at him, surprised.  "Tell me?" she asked, softly.  He frowned, and she thought he was going to refuse, but then he began to talk.

  "I was old enough to know what was going on when it all started," he began.  "There was just Bill and me back then, and Mum and Dad, obviously.  We weren't really at risk, as such - we were purebloods.  But Dad's obsession with Muggles, his 'Muggle-love' as some relatives laughingly called it, was enough for us to be a real target.  And then, Dad started disappearing.  Initially it was only for days, but as You-Know-Who grew stronger, he would start disappearing for weeks at a time.  I may have been old enough to understand that what was happening was bad, but I couldn't work out where my Dad was going.  I thought he'd been taken.  Until he came home, I thought we'd lost him forever.  But I couldn't talk to Mum about it - she was worried enough as it was.  And…"  Charlie hesitated.  "When I was five, Mum had a little girl.  She'd always wanted a daughter, and the Weasley line is notorious for sons.  Ellie was a dream come true…"  he seemed far away, a wistful smile in his eyes, and Ria was reluctant to break into his thoughts.  "She was like a breath of fresh air, the sunshine in the rain, you know…  Wherever Ellie was, there was laughter."  

  "What happened?" Ria asked. 

  "She was beautiful, Ri.  We worshipped her, all of us.  But even our worship couldn't keep her safe.  She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  And the first we knew about it was the Dark Mark.  Her best friend's family.  But Ellie was playing there.  One day.  One _day_!  How much harm could come to a little girl playing with her friend for a couple of hours?  She never came home."  He dashed a tear away from his eye.  "The kids don't know about her.  No point in opening old wounds and telling them, Mum said, and we respect that.  But when Ginny was born, I wouldn't touch her - not for six weeks.  I didn't want her to die like Ellie had, with me loving her, and it hurting so much."

  "But Ginny isn't Ellie," Ria pointed out.

  "No," Charlie agreed.  "Ginny is Ginny, a person in her own right.  But, when I look at her, I can't help wondering what Ellie would have been like if she'd grown up."  Ria didn't know what to say.  Her own life hadn't been a barrel of laughs by any means, and being adopted, she could empathise with Charlie's sense of bereavement.  But twenty years on, and Charlie still remembered his little sister as if she had been born yesterday.  He remembered, and he didn't want to forget, Ria could tell.  So, she did the only thing she could.  She picked up his hand, which lay limply on the table, and squeezed it in a gesture of companionship.  

_I'm cruel.  Too cruel.  Believe me, guys, I hated writing this, but it had to happen, because…well, I don't know.  Ask Charlie and Ria, because they have a conspiracy against me right now.  Anyway, as always, many many thanks for all reviews.  They make writing that much more fun.  Next chapter will be up very soon, as I am superb and have written it already.  _

_Hallie_

_Sorceresses Promoting the Adoration and Reverence of Charlie – a website devoted to Charlie worship!_

**__**


	13. Chapter 13 - Strangers in the Night

Part XIII "Charlie?" Charlie looked up. "How would you define a nice girl?" He looked at her blankly. Ria had clearly lost her mind. Again. "Eh?" "A nice girl." "Sorry - what's this.Girls can be 'nice'?" He grinned at her, and winked. In response, she rolled her eyes. "Girls that you fancy, dear," Ria explained. "Men like nice girls." "Well, Fair Kentish Maidens are, of course, the apple of my eye," Charlie replied, earning himself a thump on the shoulder. He grinned. "A nice girl? I mean, what is that? Do they give awards for 'nice' dogs at Crups?" "One would assume so. Although how anyone can describe a crup as 'nice' is beyond me. Animal lovers do strange things." "Intelligent, yes. Beautiful, yes. I can understand these things. But 'nice'?" He gave Ria a puzzled look. "Girls like devilish men. Men are attracted to nice girls. It's the way things are." "So, nice and devilish are one and the same now, are they?" "Fool. Girls like devilish men. Men like nice girls." "Point taken, your holiness," Charlie replied, giving his friend a rakish grin. "So, what the hell are they?" "I suppose," Charlie said, slowly, "that a nice girl is someone you can have a nice easy conversation with. Narrows it down, doesn't it? Someone who a) isn't immediately interested in ripping your clothes off, and b) is.um.nice?" "Ripping your clothes off? Fat chance," Ria told him, dismissively. "I've seen your bedroom." Charlie grinned. Nothing like good friends to put your life into perspective. "Nice to see that's what you're thinking about, though," he winked. "Nice girl.well, you're a nice girl. And so is Merri." "Charlie.?" "Ria.?" "Are you trying to say you want to go out with me?" Ria asked, fluttering her eyelashes comically. "Would you like me to say that?" Charlie asked, grinning mischievously. "Hell no," Ria replied, laughing. "The Dark Lord will return before I go out with you, Weasley." "Lucky for you that I like devilish girls, then, eh?" Charlie winked. "Devilish? Hah, most of the girls you date don't have the brains to be devilish. Vacant more like." Ria was scathing about his choice in women. "Do you like nice men? And I take that as a compliment." "More fool you. Do I like nice men? Well, generally young ladies like the rogues of society. Their unpredictability is incredibly appealing, don't you know?" "So you don't go for nice men?" "I used to prefer men who were devils," Ria told him. "Used to?" "Well, Charlie dear, much as I love you, you really don't fall into the living life dangerously category." "But you just said you didn't want to date me, which, incidentally, suits me just fine. What changed your mind?" Ria turned away from him, so that all he could see was the back of her head, with it's messy ponytail of hair. He thought he heard her whisper something. "What was that?" "It doesn't matter." She smiled at him and left the room. But it did matter. It mattered to Charlie. Because at some point in her past, someone had destroyed her faith in love and ruined men for her forever. He looked hopelessly at her retreating back, something stirring inside him. A desire to make everything better. And, knowing she couldn't hear him, he sighed. "I'm so sorry, Ri." * * * * Charlie wondered just what he had done to deserve this. He was the epitome of kindness and goodness - he'd even forsaken all potential suitors in favour of taking her to the dance, and this was how she repaid him. Ariadne Rutherford, he decided, was one enigma that would take a lot of cracking. "Ri," he began, "why exactly have you moved all of the furniture out of the dining room?" "Because," Ria replied, smiling, "I am going to give you dancing lessons." Charlie looked at the door, contemplating a quick getaway. Dancing? What did she think he was? "Dancing lessons?" He looked at her blankly. Maybe if he feigned ignorance then she'd relent. "Yes," she said firmly. "I seem to recall, not so very long ago, when you were contemplating asking Katie - or Kate or whatever her name was - to be your beloved, you mentioned to me that you couldn't dance. Well, dear, now is the time to learn." "But I don't want to!" Charlie protested. Ria rolled her eyes. "Come on, Charlie, you know you've always wanted to Tango with a rose between your teeth. I've heard that most girls find it very attractive to be wooed by a romantic." "Most girls including or excluding you?" "Excluding, so there's no need to be shy. And you insisted that I had to go to this Ball, so I'm insisting that you have to learn. Or else I'm not going." Charlie blinked. Ria wasn't normally this defiant. At least, he didn't think that she was. "Fine," he said, resigned to the inevitable. "I hope you know that by the time this session is over you won't have any feet left." "Never mind," Ria said, briskly. "I know some very good restorative charms. Now, let's start with a waltz - they're the simplest. Just count 1-2-3 and you'll be fine.I'm assuming you can count to three?" She grinned. "Bloody cheek!" Charlie responded. "It's my feet that worry me, not my mathematical skills." "Don't be so defeatist," Ria told him, grabbing his right hand, and placing it at her waist. The wool of her jumper was surprisingly warm and soft. "That hand stays there," she told him, "and no mention of fat, please, or I may have to shoot you." She picked up his other hand, and adopted a pose he recognised from pictures of his mother's schooldays. "Pretty simple pose, really," she mused. "What about your other hand?" Charlie asked. Ria looked at him quizzically. "Shouldn't it go somewhere?" "No," Ria said, smiling. "I'll use it to hold my dress when I'm actually wearing one." "And there was me, thinking you were going to go in your nightie." He felt ridiculous, standing there, doing nothing. "And you'd like that, wouldn't you!" Ria exclaimed, grinning. She held her wand in her free hand, and pointed it towards the contraption she used to play her Muggle music. A reasonably slow tune with a definite rhythm began to blast through the room. "Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty," Ria told him, as though that meant anything. He blinked. "You are so uncultured, Charlie Weasley, I sometimes despair of you," Ria teased. "Anyway, the key to waltzing.well, first thing you should know is that waltz comes from the German wältzen which means to revolve. So guess what's involved in waltzing?" "Revolving?" "Right. So, we move in a kind of circle. Here." She disentangled herself from his embrace. "It's like this." She held an imaginary partner in her arms and began to whirl around the room. Charlie felt quite giddy watching. "You understand?" She asked. He shook his head. "You will. Okay, so for the purpose of this exercise, we'll get rid of the music for a bit. Just think 'step, side, close' and you'll be fine. And remember, you work opposite to me. You lead. Okay?" "Okay," Charlie said, doubtfully, and dutifully returned to the position she had placed him in earlier. The music began again, and tentatively the two of them began to waltz. After several false starts, he began to understand the rhythm involved, and muttering 'step-side-close' quietly, eyes glued to his feet, he began to feel vaguely confident in what he was doing. "Look at me," Ria told him. "You're doing really well, but if you spend all of your time looking at your feet you look like you don't know what you're doing." "I don't know what I'm doing," Charlie protested, nevertheless raising his eyes to meet hers. "Well, you're doing a good job of faking, then," Ria retorted, maintaining eye contact and suddenly breaking to twirl. Which was all well and good, but it completely threw Charlie. Half an hour later, he was almost confident with waltzing. Almost. But Ria deemed him good enough to move on to something else. Namely the tango. A dance that Charlie soon discovered involved an inordinate amount of preposterous posturing. "I feel ridiculous," he told his partner as he lowered her so that she was practically on the floor, causing her to giggle. Which caused him to let go of her. Which caused Ria to bang her head on the floor with a bang. "Ouch," she said, rubbing her head. "That wasn't called for. You could have just said that you didn't like the dance." "Sorry!" Charlie exclaimed, helping her up off of the floor. "That was not supposed to happen! Are you okay?" "I'm fine," Ria assured him. "It'll take more than a bump to take me out. And now you have to master that dance, if only to make my pain worthwhile." Charlie grimaced. That did not sound hopeful - they might well still be practising at this time next week if she wanted him to master those sorts of complexities. She grinned, noticing his discomfiture. "I'm only joking, Charlie. Even to master the waltz is very good. Traditionally Balls open and close with a waltz, so you'll be okay there. And anyway, I think there'll be a fair number of Reels. I'm assuming you can dance a reel?" "I'm from Cornwall," Charlie told her, confidently. "My tango may not be perfect, but I'm confident that my jigging is much more in keeping with your impeccable standards." * * * * Charlie was not used to what he termed 'fancy functions'. As a child the only type of dance he had ever experienced was a good Cornish Barn Dance, and something told him that the 'flatter for favours' style of dancing was very different from the light-hearted reels and jigs that were danced on such occasions. Even the Barn Dances had been few and far between once the Dark Lord began to assume real power. When it was barely safe to remain in your house, you did not go out looking for trouble, or so Molly Weasley had always told him. Not that he'd really understood - it wasn't until people he knew started dying that he appreciated the full impact of the Reign of Terror. Ellie had been the first to die, but she was not the only one. As if losing her hadn't had impact enough. Gradually Charlie became used to hearing of friends and acquaintances who had been affected by the war. He never accepted the news of their loss though. He never saw their bodies, and until he did a small part of him would always cling to the possibility that it may all have been a horrible dream. Even twelve years on, he still hoped that one day Ellie would walk through the door, as if nothing had happened. But now was not the time to be morose. He was, after all, about to attend a very prestigious social event, the like of which had rarely been seen in this remote part of Romania. Charlie surveyed his dress robes with unconcealed satisfaction. They consisted of a pair of pale grey trousers and matching silk waistcoat, white linen shirt and black silk bow tie, with an over-robe very similar to a Muggle morning coat, coming down to the knee, and buckling with silver fastenings. Very suave, and a far cry from the knitted jumpers and too- short shorts of his youth. Placing a white silk handkerchief into the breast pocket of his robe, he smiled at his reflection, and left his room, calling to the girls as he went. "Merri, you need to get a shift on! Jon will want to arrive early! And Ri, just because I said we didn't have to be there for dead on eight, that doesn't mean you should take your time, dear." He went to wait in the living room, where he sat and perused the pages of 'Perfect Potions', which Ria had purchased whilst on one of her I-must-learn-more-about-magic kicks.  
  
Merri was the first to appear, looking shy in robes of palest jade, which were very fitted and extremely flattering to Merri's petite form. Charlie was amazed at the difference that nice clothes and a decent hairstyle could make in someone. Merri, although not as plain as she made out, was hardly the most startling of beauties, and yet now she looked positively regal. "You look lovely," Charlie told her, approvingly. "Thank you," Merri replied, shyly. "Ri said she wouldn't be long, and not to pester her or she'll deliberately delay you by two hours. And there's Jon, so I'd better go." Charlie blinked at this easy dismissal, and watched, stunned, as his friend walked out of the door, head held high. When Ria eventually emerged, he was on page two hundred and thirty four, and beginning to get more than a little impatient with pesticide potions. "Charlie?" He looked up, and blinked. For once his tomboyish friend looked very much the aristocratic daughter. If Merri looked regal then Ria was stunning. In a break with convention she had gone for a Muggle dress, with a full length black skirt and boned white bodice. Over this she wore more traditional robes. The material had been woven in such a way that depending on how the light caught the robes they were either a deep crimson or a rich burgundy. These robes, clearly, had not been picked up off of a market stall. "Looking good, Miss Ria," he said, half-admiringly, half jokingly. "Mind telling me why you're not posing on the front cover of 'Witch Weekly' instead of tending to possibly the most sadistic creatures that walk the earth?" he demanded, teasingly. "Charlie, darling, I know Merri and Jon are a handful, but there's no need to be rude!" Ria grinned. "I could ask you the same question." She winked, and Charlie did a double take.was she wearing make-up? This was going to be good. "Witch Weekly has never really appealed to me, for some reason," he told her, in mock honesty. "I'm sure you'd appeal to some of its readers," Ria replied, mischievously.  
  
"As my mother is an avid fan of said magazine, I shall completely disregard that comment and ignore you for the rest of the evening," Charlie told her, snootily, noting the laughter in her eyes with well-hidden amusement. "It's unlike you to take a stand over your femininity," Ria responded, laughing. "Anyway, they can do wonders with make-up nowadays." Charlie gaped at her, open mouthed. The little horror. She'd pay for that comment. "Besides, the public love you!" "I don't care what the public wants," Charlie told her, "as long as it isn't me." "I don't know," Ria mused, slowly. "I think those dragon hide boots of yours are most fetching." "You can do a lot of things with dragon hide, you know," Charlie told her, seriously. "I read the textbook," Ria responded. "Why, Ria, and I thought you were a nice girl!" Charlie teased. "What?! CHARLIE! If this damned corset wasn't so darn tight you'd pay for that comment!" "Just as well for me that you're all trussed up, then," Charlie told her. "But before we leave, may I ask you a question?" "Shoot." "Do you have legs?" Charlie smirked as Ria glanced down at her voluptuous skirt before hitting him. Hard. Laughing, he grabbed her hand and frogmarched her out of the house. * * * * The large venue of the Ball was looking particularly vibrant that night. Charlie could hear faint strains of Chamber music as he and Ria entered via the grand hallway and were shown to their seats. No one could say that the Reserve did not do things properly. Charlie smiled his thanks to the waiter as he sat down at the table currently occupied by Merri and Jon. "Are these things always so posh?" he demanded of his boss. Jon laughed. "Not always," he replied. "But you've been to one before, so you should know that. However, this year the powers that be decided that formal was the way to go. Don't ask me why - everyone is usually perfectly happy with a disco, besides which, this must have cost a fortune. But each to their own." "Well," Ria grinned, "I'm not going to complain. This takes me back - do you remember, Jon?" "How could I possibly forget?" Jon asked, returning her smile. "A prettier five year old is hard to imagine. Not that I really appreciated your feminine charms at the time." Charlie and Merri exchanged a confused look. Noticing this, Ria smiled. "My parents knew Jon's well," she explained. "We first met at a Ball when he was eight and I was five. I was.well, I fell in love with him, as little girls are wont to do. And he wouldn't dance with me." "Well, he can rectify that situation tonight," Merri smiled. "Minus the falling in love," Ria agreed. "Charlie still hasn't mastered the tango. We'll have to show him how it's done later, Jon." "Charming!" Charlie exclaimed. "Anyone would think that I'd been dancing for months. We did only start practising three days ago, you know." "Yes," Ria said, laying a placating hand on his shoulder. "And you did very well, dear. But Jon is a pro, and, much as we'd love it to be otherwise, you're not." Before Charlie had a chance to respond, Merri spoke. "If the two of you would stop arguing for one minute, then we could get on with actually dancing!" she exclaimed. "Look, the band is getting ready. And it will be a waltz. It always is." "Argue?" Ria looked innocent. "Us? Charlie and I never argue, do we?" "Not at all," Charlie agreed, attempting to contort his face into a butter- wouldn't-melt expression and failing miserably. "We love each other, don't we Ri!" "Oh, absolutely," Ria replied, straight faced. "Could have fooled me," Merri grinned, taking the arm that Jon offered her and whirling on to the dance floor. Charlie and Ria smirked at her retreating back. "Score one to us," Charlie said. Then, feeling particularly chivalrous, he bowed to his partner. "Would you do me the honour, Mistress Rutherford?" "It would be my pleasure, kind sir," Ria replied, smiling a smile that lit up her whole face and taking the proffered hand. "Just remember," she whispered as they began to dance. "One-two-three, one-two-three, and you'll be fine." Charlie grinned. This was going to be interesting. * * * * After three dances, Charlie had to plead fatigue and sit down. Ria, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the exercise. Charlie decided that she was crazy. Merri, he decided, probably thought the same thing about Jon. At any rate, when her other half had left her sitting with Charlie, he had asked Ria to dance. The two of them, Charlie thought, reluctantly, danced well together. Very well together. Jon's dancing put his own to shame, and as for Ria, well, had she been anyone other than herself, she could have danced for England. "They dance well, don't they?" Merri said, breaking into his thoughts. "Too well," Charlie grumbled. "I look silly compared to Jon." "Don't be ridiculous, Charlie," Merri told him, briskly. "I'm hardly likely to rival Ria in dancing skill, but Jon still loves me. Ria isn't interested in how well you dance. She loves you for what you are. And don't doubt that she loves you. Because she does. It's crystal clear. I don't know what it is about you but every time you walk into a room her face lights up." "Tshhh." Charlie made a disparaging noise. "You're imagining things. People who are attached do that. They become matchmakers. It's a most unbecoming profession, Merri." Merri didn't reply. She was too busy watching Jon and Ria as they ruled the dance floor. Loath though he was to admit it, Charlie was very impressed, and not just by Ria's dancing. In spite of his jesting earlier, he had truly meant that she looked stunning, and never more so than whirling around the dance floor, the full black skirt of her dress swishing as she span delightedly. This was a side of Ria that Charlie was not accustomed to. This wasn't Ria, his best friend, someone who he could say whatever he liked to, even be vulgar if he wanted to. No. This was Miss Ariadne Rutherford, society girl. It made things awkward for him, somehow. He'd been brought up to respect girls, and watch his language around them. And when Ria was all doled up and looking a million Galleons, Charlie had to reconsider his relationship with her. Which, when he thought about it, was stupid. Because she was still the same Ria. But. He didn't know. She looked amazing, and he was glad that she was enjoying herself. Finally he put his finger on it. This Ria was false. She oozed confidence, and it was confidence that Charlie knew Ria didn't have. Even the way she walked was different. The reason she seemed odd was because she wasn't Ria, his best friend. She was trying to be something that she wasn't, albeit subconsciously. And it bothered Charlie that she thought she had to. At the same time, he admitted that there was something oddly attractive about this new Ria. Her confidence, had it been real, would have been refreshing, and entirely justified. Unlike the coarse clothing that was most appropriate for every day wear at the reserve, Ria's dress robes made her slender and well proportioned figure obvious. The bodice was fitted and so low cut that Charlie was hard pushed not to stare at Ria's cleavage, startled by its very existence. The vibrant colouring of her robes suited her, and the wide cups of the sleeves made her look like something out of one of the ancient Hogwarts portraits. But the feature that fascinated Charlie the most, more, even, than her cleavage, was Ria's hair. Somehow he'd never realised how long it was. It fell, a long black ribbon, down to her waist. It was not exactly straight, but neither was it curly. It was thick and lustrous, and surprisingly soft to touch. The living mass of blackness was a far cry from the snaking braid that Ria usually kept her hair in check with. Charlie found himself wanting to feel it again, to make sure it was real. To him, it represented Ria's spirit, so often tied up, and yet so amazing when she allowed it to be free. How ironic, then, that the one time her hair was free, Ria was not. * * * * "You know, some of those women out there are screaming 'kiss me'," Ria commented, as she and Charlie sat watching other couples dancing. Charlie looked at her in amusement. "Are you sure that's all they're screaming?" he asked, mischievously. Ria glared at him. "You just had to lower the tone, didn't you?" she said, but he could see the muted amusement in her eyes. "That is my nature, yes," he agreed, easily. "Obviously, you're not one of those women," he added, grinning. "Charlie, the day I scream kiss me is the day that Cornelius Fudge dyes his hair blue and does the Can-Can in fishnet tights," Ria said, bluntly. "Very likely, then," Charlie said, wryly, shaking his head. "You're too uptight, you know," he told her. "You're scared of men." She opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke again before she could. "No, listen. You admitted yourself that the only reason you formed any kind of relationship with Bill was because it meant you didn't really have to commit yourself. And you don't want to go out with anyone because you think that they'll hurt you. And maybe you're right - maybe they will. But that's not the point. Ri, you need to live a little." "Thank you for that psychoanalysis of my life," Ria replied. "Maybe I am uptight. But you don't know everything, Charlie Weasley, much as you wish that you did. And until you do, you are in no position to tell me what and what not I need to do." She got up and swept off. Charlie looked at her retreating back. "So tell me," he said, softly. But of course, she didn't hear. Sighing, Charlie got up and went off to find her. Sometimes she was hard work. Eventually he came across her at the drinks table, gulping down a glass of champagne alarmingly fast. "Ri!" he called, but she only raised her head higher and knocked back yet more Dutch Courage. He was making his way towards her, just about to corner her, when a rather dapper looking gentleman spoke to her. "Would you care to dance?" Charlie grimaced in irritation as Ria smiled and nodded, the alcohol obviously having its intended effect. Well, he thought, you did tell her she needed to be more outgoing. Not that knowing this was much comfort. Charlie knew the gentleman in question. Jacques Smith was of dual nationality - he had a French mother and an English father - and worked for the French department on the Reserve. He was handsome, charming, and every girl's dream man. He also only had one thing in mind when he made his move on a woman. Charlie didn't particularly want to watch as the enigmatic Frenchman seduced his best friend. Knowing Ria, however, he doubted that he'd have any opportunity to interfere. Still, he could try to save her from herself. Spying Merri and Jon, he cut in. "May I have the pleasure?" he asked Merri, his gaze going from her to Ria and her partner, who were now dancing far too closely in his opinion. Merri followed his gaze, and noticing just who was dancing with Ria, assented. The two of them whisked into a foxtrot, with Charlie moving surreptitiously towards Ria and Jacques. "May we cut in?" Merri demanded, as the two couples converged, and before either Ria or Jacques could protest Charlie and Merri had broken them up. "What was that for?" Ria demanded, looking put out. "That," Charlie replied, "was us saving you from a fate worse than death. You must know about Jacques reputation!" "So what?" Ria demanded, sullenly, reminding Charlie of a very annoying teenager. "So, do you really want to be giving birth to his child in nine months? Because if you do, then carry on the way you are, and I can guarantee that you'll be residing in some maternity unit." "Don't be so ridiculous," Ria brushed off his concerns. "I'm a big girl now, Charlie, and in spite of what you think, you are not my keeper. So mind your own business." Deftly she steered them back towards Jacques and smirking, regained her original partner. Charlie and Merri looked at each other dejectedly. "Typical Ria," Merri said, dryly. "She's going to get herself into trouble," Charlie said, watching her worriedly. "I only hope she knows what she's doing." So much for saving Ria from herself. * * * * Charlie had lost Ria completely, in spite of attempting to keep her and Jacques within his line of sight. One minute they were there, the next they were not. Consequently, he was prowling the grounds, hoping to find the two of them. At least Ria was having fun. Well, at least Ria thought she was having fun. Thinking and doing were not always one and the same. And, no matter what Ria said to the contrary, Charlie did feel responsible for her. It was as natural as breathing for him to worry about her. She was, after all, practically family. And Weasleys were notorious for their family protective gene. Hence Charlie's stalking of the borders. Stalking, he decided later, was not the most desirable of occupations. You ended up cold and frustrated, and you rarely got what you wanted from your efforts. This was certainly the case for his current mission. Eventually he did spy Ria and Jacques. And promptly wished that he hadn't. Because Jacques was all over her like a rash, and Ria seemed to think that eating him would be a wise move. Charlie resisted the urge to let out a growl of frustration. This was emphatically not the ending he had wanted for the evening. Of all the men in the world, she just had to choose the wrong one. What made him more angry than anything was that it was his fault. He had told her to live. He had got her so angry that she had thrown caution to the winds. And he was the reason that she was now doing things he didn't even want to think about with a man well-known for his devilish ways. And she'd said she didn't like devilish men. Dejected, he made his way back to their home, hoping that she would make it back some time before tomorrow morning.  
  
Author's Note: Much as I adore Charlie, Ria et al, I cannot take credit for them entirely. There's a network of people behind Spiritus aduro who care about my characters just as much as I do, sometimes I worry that they care more. A good proportion of this chapter should be credited to my editor-cum-beta reader Andy. Much of Charlie's more inspired dialogue is taken straight from Andy's mouth. Literally. You'd be surprised at some of the conversations we have had over the course of the story. I also owe great thanks to Louise, who backs me up when I'm doubtful, and supports me when I don't agree with Andy. I also have to thank Arabella, for being such a ROXy beta reader. Without these people, there would be no Spiritus aduro. I also want to thank you, the readers. Without your support, Spiritus aduro may have ended up on the rocks. I don't write for reviews - that's not the way to go about this business, but your comments mean a lot to me. If you take the time to review then you are truly stars. Thank you all so much for reading Hallie 


	14. Chapter 14 My Best Fiend

Spiritus aduro

Author's Note:  Many thanks to Arabella for the beta – it was very much appreciated.  Many apologies for the long wait for this – in my defence, I have been busy going on holidays and applying to universities in the last couple of months.  Hopefully Part XV might be finished before Christmas.  Many thanks to all reviewers, and on with the story.

Part XIV

                The house was dark when Charlie arrived home, not that it surprised him.  Merri and Jon were still at the ball, and as for Ria…well, Charlie didn't want to think about where Ria was or what she was doing.  

  "_Lumos_!"  The candles in the hallway flared to life, casting flickering shadows.  Charlie made straight for his bedroom, anxious to get out of his dress robes and into something more comfortable.  

Back in everyday wear, he entered the sitting room.  Ezara, who had been dozing by the fire, stirred when he entered.  She trotted over to him, eager for attention.  In spite of himself, Charlie smiled.  Since Merri had adopted her, Ezara had lost all of her typical unicorn traits, most noticeably her fear of men.  She was just as much a part of the family as Ria's owl, Phoebus, possibly more so.  

  "Hey, Ezzie," he said, rubbing the creature's head affectionately.  "Merri'll be back soon…she and Jon are just dancing."  Ezara nuzzled his fingers.  "Hungry?"  Ezara whinnied.  "I'll see if I can find you an apple.  And don't even think about telling Merri, okay?"  Feeling slightly better, Charlie made for the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.  Settling himself into the armchair once more, he offered the young unicorn his quarry.

   "_Flamare_." He pointed his wand at the fire, causing it to spark into action.  He gazed at it, feeling sorry for himself, whilst Ezara chomped on the apple by his feet.

*              *                *                *

  "Charlie?"  Merri's voice disturbed him.

  "You're back then," he said, his period of solitude leaving him unwilling to entertain company, even if the company _was_ Merri.

  "Well, actually, this is a manifestation of Merri," she said, grinning.  "Stating the obvious, aren't you?"  She lowered herself into a chair.  "My, I'm tired.  Jon's dancing is enough to wear even the best woman out."  Merri sounded far too cheery in Charlie's reckoning.  He was pretty certain that she was being deliberately upbeat in an attempt to bring him out of the doldrums.

  "Why don't you go to bed, then?" he suggested, unwilling to succumb.

  "I wouldn't be able to sleep," Merri said, still with that annoyingly cheerful smile.  "Too keyed up.  I don't suppose you fancy a game of cards, or something?"

  "If by 'something' you mean a whisky, I wouldn't say no," Charlie said, flatly.  

  "Someone's miserable this evening," Merri said, raising an eyebrow.  "I'll get you a whisky, but only if you give me a game of Bloody Mary."

  "Bloody Mary doesn't work with two players," Charlie pointed out.  "We're limited to Exploding Snap or Chess, I think."

  "Out of respect for Ester's children, I think we have to rule Exploding Snap out," Merri told him, comfortably.  "My chess is pretty appalling, but why not?  Ritual humiliation is my speciality."  Winking at him, she disappeared off into the kitchen, presumably to locate his whisky.

                When Merri reappeared, bearing a tumbler of neat whisky, Charlie was busy setting up the chessboard, an archaic looking piece of equipment if ever there was one.  It was a Weasley hand-me-down, and he rarely had the opportunity to use it.  Ria had never been into strategy games, and Merri was hardly ever at home to play with.  

  "That thing looks like it's about as old as chess itself!" Merri exclaimed as she settled herself opposite him.

  "Do you have any chessmen?" Charlie asked, wondering if her remark was a subtle jibe or not.  

  "Lawks, no!" Merri looked highly amused.  "Like I said, I'm _awful_ at chess.  I mean, I know the rudiments, but I'll never be a chess master.  For years I thought that rooks moved sideways!"

  "Merri, rooks _do_ move sideways."

  "My point exactly."

Charlie rolled his eyes.  He'd been playing chess for as long as he could remember.  The Weasley family were renowned for their skill at the game.  His grandfather had been one of the masters in his day, and Charlie could vividly remember Sunday visits to his grandparents.  His mother would starch their Sunday best on Saturday evening, and then on Sunday mornings they were all required to stand for inspection.  Once she was satisfied that they had all washed behind their ears, the whole family would Floo to Sett Cottage, generally arriving just in time for Sunday Roast around the huge family table.  After dinner, Grandpa Weasley would take them into the Drawing Room, and then he'd play chess with them.  None of them were too young.  Ron was just two when their grandfather had first sat him down at a chessboard.  By the time he was five, it was clear that Ron was the player of the family.  He was the only person who could beat Grandpa Weasley on a regular basis.  When the old man had died, he had left his chess set to his youngest grandson, with the stipulation that the family were to ensure that Ron developed his already honed sense of strategy.  To Charlie's knowledge, Ron had never lost a game with those pieces.

                Merri was better at the game than she professed to be, but even so, it only took Charlie half an hour to put her King into Checkmate.  

  "I told you I wasn't that great," she said, laughing, before glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece.  "And now, we should get to bed."

  "Ria's not in yet," Charlie said, allowing worry and irritation to seep into his tone.  

  "She will be," Merri said, knowingly, touching his hand gently.

  "We hope."  Charlie's tone was dark. 

  "Charlie, you aren't Ria's keeper.  If she doesn't come home, that's her problem.  She's a big girl."

  "She's vulnerable, Merri, and you know Smith's reputation."

  "Sure.  But Ria's not stupid.  Jacques or no, she won't do anything to regret."  Merri softened.  "Go to bed, Charlie.  Your head will be clearer after a good night's sleep.  If there's one thing Ri doesn't need right now, it's you doing the protective act."

  "If I don't look out for her, who will?" Charlie demanded.  "Sure, she's twenty-one, an adult, and experienced, but sometimes I wonder if she has any idea about life at all.  In many ways, for all her toughness, Ria is just a little girl."

  "Perhaps," Merri nodded, her eyes showing sympathy.  "But she won't appreciate it if you interfere.  And you'll regret it if you don't think before you act."

*              *                 *                *

                When Charlie woke, his first thought was Ria.  He sincerely hoped that she'd made it home last night.  Given her lack of faith in the world, it wouldn't take much to push her beyond the brink.  He'd had dealings with an angry Ria before.  When infuriated, the illustrious Miss Rutherford was inclined to do things that she usually wouldn't dream of even contemplating.  Her sense of caution tended to be thrown to the wind.  

                Sighing, Charlie got up and made for the kitchen.  Merri was there already, looking over the _Daily Prophet_ as she munched on a slice of jammy toast.  

  "Morning!" she smiled at him.  "Coffee?" 

  "Please," he returned her smile, gratefully.  "Anything interesting going on back home?"

  "The usual.  The Department of Magical Law Enforcement's going through some kind of scandal."  She grinned. 

  "So what's new?  Anything from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

  "Not really.  There's a feature on some new variety of flobberworm that they've discovered.  Quite frankly, I'm surprised that anyone cares about flobberworms enough to make the effort to study them.  Give me dragons, any day."

  "Nothing beats nearly getting toasted every day, then?"

  "Certainly not force-feeding slimy insects lettuce."

  "What's that about lettuce?"  Ria entered the kitchen, stifling a yawn with her hand.  She was still wearing her finery from the previous night.

  "Never mind the lettuce, where have you been?!" Charlie glared at her, completely forgetting Merri's advice from the previous night.  "Merri and I were worried _sick_ last night.  You could at least have owled us to let us know that you were okay.  But I suppose you were too busy enjoying yourself to worry about your friends!"

  "And just what is that supposed to mean?"  Ria sounded hostile.

  "Jacques' good, is he?"

  "You are so far away from the line it's not even funny!"  Charlie could see Ria's eyes beginning to smoulder, a sure sign that she was fast reaching boiling point.  Usually he would have taken the hint.  Not today, however.  The trauma of the Ball had left him on edge and unwilling to compromise.  He was vaguely aware of Merri slipping out of the room, muttering something about meeting Jon.  In her pyjamas, apparently.

  "Oh, so there's a line, then.  You didn't lose all sense of decorum?"

  "Bloody hell, Charlie, you sound like my mother."

  "I don't envy her, I can tell you that.  So, come on then.  Where were you last night?"

  "I stayed with Eloise, not that it's any of your business."

  "With _Eloise_, was it?"

  "Yes, with Eloise."

  "Why didn't you come home?"

  "Because I didn't want to have to go through this, to be completely frank.  Because I knew that you'd get up on your high horse and start making insinuations.  Making me sound cheap.  What kind of friend are you, anyway, Charles Weasley?  I'm twenty-bloody-one, not two.  If I want to spend the whole night away from home, then I will.  It's not like you haven't done the same before."

  "That's different," Charlie said.  His relationships were not the issue here, and he told Ria as much.

  "Oh, so it's one rule for you and a different one for me, is it?  And how is _that_ fair?"

  "You're a girl," Charlie said, as if that explained everything.

  "And there was me thinking that I was a hermaphrodite!"  Ria was cutting.

  "Don't be flippant."

  "Flippant?  Charlie, I'm not sure what century you're living in, but this is 1992.  We're into the twentieth century now.  Women aren't tied to the kitchen any more."

  "I never said you had to stay in the kitchen."  

  "You might just as well have.  And that's not the point.  I can do what I like, when I like, however I like.  My reputation is just that.  _Mine_."

  "And when you're on the maternity ward, I'll remind you of that."

  "Oh, for goodness' sake!" Ria looked like she was about to slap him.  "I'm going to say this once, and once only.  My parents taught me the facts of life.  I know how babies come about, and I'm not about to get myself 'into trouble'.  And if all you can do is cast aspersions on my good character, then I'm not interested."  She turned on her heel and stalked towards the door.

  "Where are you going?  We haven't finished yet!" Charlie shouted after her.

*              *                *                *

  "What's up, Charlie?" Joshua Hintown looked at Charlie curiously.  "You've got a face like a wet weekend."

  "Thanks for that, Josh!" Charlie glared at his friend.  He sighed.  "Ria and I had an argument."

  "So what's new?  You two argue at least twice a day, on average."  Josh winked at Charlie, grinning.

  "Not like this."

  "What did you do?"  Josh looked sympathetic.  "No – don't tell me – I can guess.  You came it all big brotherly on her, didn't you.  Read her the riot act."  He paused to write something on his parchment.  "I saw her leave the Ball with Jacques Smith yesterday."

  "Do you blame me?"

  "Not really.  But she's a woman – she doesn't see things like we do.  You and I both know what Jacques was after, and we make no bones about it.  Ri – she was flattered."

  "Well, her opinion of me has sunk to rock bottom," Charlie said, glumly.  "I think I insinuated too much."

  "Ouch.  Did she hit you?"

  "No.  But she came pretty close to it."

  "Bad luck, mate.  Not really much you can do.  She'll get over it."  Josh clapped Charlie on the shoulder.  "I spoke to Kelley this morning.  She wants us to help Rach with Helios.  Apparently she's got some kind of cold."

  "I don't pity Rach, then.  You know what Viperteeth are like when they're ill.  And Helios is temperamental at the best of times."

  "Don't say that to Rachel.  She's brought that dragon up, ever since her mother died of scale rot.  Helios is her baby."

    Charlie nodded in agreement.  Helios was a Peruvian Vipertooth, just under a year old.  He remembered her arrival vividly.  There was no room left in the Nursery – and a litter of eggs had been abandoned by their mother.  It was unusual for dragons to leave their eggs to the mercy of the elements, but Fremitia was a first time mother, and had been ill.  A litter of eight eggs had taken up all of the spaces in the Nursery run by Fiona Shaw.  Jon had gone off to Peru to rescue the egg before the Peruvians used it to make a fry up (Peruvian wizards considered dragons' eggs a delicacy) and when he'd returned they'd been at their wits end as to what to do with it.  Fortunately, Rachel had always had a soft spot for the breed, and had offered to hatch it on the fire in her hut.  Jon had accepted gratefully.

  "Does Rach know if it's contagious?" he asked, worried.  An epidemic didn't bode well for this year's breeding.  Sick dragons made notoriously bad mothers, and treating any creature that weighs more that two tonnes when they're feeling particularly antisocial was nobody's cup of tea.

  "She's not sure.  Once we've knocked Helios out we can do some tests, but Rach said that if it _is_ a cold then we should be giving them all immunity boosters with their feed."

  "As if we didn't have enough to worry about already," Charlie sighed. 

  "It could be worse.  At least we've caught it."

  "I'd be happier if there was no epidemic."

  "There isn't yet."

  "Shut up."

*              *                *                *

                Rachel Peat regarded her dragon helplessly.

  "If it's not a cold, then what _is_ it?" she demanded, scowling at Helios' Stunned form.  "She's coughing up smoke, and hasn't created a fireball for a good week now.  If I didn't know better I'd swear she had some kind of adenoidal problem.  But dragon's don't _have_ adenoids."

  "Well, it's not any of the usual culprits," Charlie said, wiping his hands on his robes.  "But Helios _is_ running a temperature, and there's definitely some sort of problem."

  "Well, genius.  But who the hell am I suppose to talk to about it?  Who on the Reserve has any expertise in disease?"

  "Well, there's Joe MacFusty, but he only really deals with Hebridean Blacks.  Mind you, it might be worth consulting him."  Josh grinned.  "He _has_ got nine centuries worth of experience to look help him, after all." 

  "The way you tell it, anyone would think that Joe was nine hundred years old!" Rachel exclaimed.  "But you have a point – Joe might be good to talk to."  She walked into the hut, and threw a handful of powder into the fire.  Ten seconds later, Samantha Kingston's head appeared in the flames.

  "Rach!  Any success?"  Sam, on top of her usual research responsibilities, was the 'Personnel Manager' for the British contingent of the Reserve.  

  "Not exactly.  The good news is that Helios _doesn't_ have any kind of cold, as far as we can discern.  The bad news is that she's definitely ill, but we have no idea what it is that's wrong with her.  Josh suggested that maybe we should get Joe MacFusty to give her a once over…"  She looked at Sam hopefully.

  "And Joe would, I'm sure, be an excellent asset," Sam frowned.  "He's busy, though.  Some of the French Sector Hebridean Blacks have been a bit off colour recently, and the Frogs commissioned him to have a look at them."

  "Do you have any suggestions?" Rachel looked worried.  "It's just that Helios is out for the count for the next hour or two, thanks to the Sedating Potion we gave her, so now would be the ideal time to get someone to take a look at her."

  "Hrmmm," Sam looked thoughtful.  "What about Ria Rutherford?  She's pretty up on exotic diseases, if I remember correctly.  She spent a spell with that magizoologist, didn't she, before she came here.  The research one."

  "Pecus Fera – that's right…Do you think she'd be able to help, Sam?"

   "There's no harm in trying," Sam nodded.  "I'll see if I can get hold of her for you.  She's scheduled to be in the Nursery today, helping Fiona take an inventory.  I'll send her right along."

  "Thanks, Sam."  The head disappeared, and Rachel turned to her companions.  "You could have suggested Ri, Charlie."

  "Didn't think to," Charlie replied, unwilling to talk about his friend, if indeed she _was_ still his friend.

  "Don't go there," Josh added, jovially.  "He's had a fall out with the little missus."

  "She is _not_ the 'missus'!" Charlie glared at him.  "And if she hears you say that, she'll hex you to Kingdom Come, so I do suggest you keep your suggestions to yourself."

  "My, someone's touchy," Rachel smiled.  "Poor Charlie.  Ria bites, does she?"

  "Shut up!" Charlie snapped, unwilling to listen to their jokes.  He noticed them exchange concerned glances.  He wasn't surprised, to be honest.  Usually he could banter with the best of them.  Today he just wasn't in the mood for flippancy, though.  Maybe he was more tired from last night than he had thought.

*              *                *                *

                Ria made an appearance fifteen minutes later.  She was dressed in her every day clothes now, and - dark circles under her eyes notwithstanding – looked perfectly normal.  She nodded to the three of them, her hair working itself loose of its anchorings as she did so.  

  "Rachel.  Josh.  Charlie."  

  "Ri!" Rachel smiled at her.  "You are good, to come this far.  Sam said you might be able to help.  It's Helios.  There's something wrong with her."

  "Sam said," Ria replied.  "Something about a cold that isn't actually a cold?"

  "That pretty much sums it up," Rachel agreed.  "She's spluttering a lot, and I haven't seen a fireball for a good week, and that's unusual for Helios.  Plus, when she splutters there's a lot of smoke.  It's like her fire chambers aren't working properly."

  "They probably aren't," Ria told her, approaching the dragon with a purposeful stride.

  "You what?" Rachel looked at her.  

  "It's unusual, but it can happen," Ria said.  "All the talk of dragons having fire in their bellies – that's codswallop, we all know that.  They have, as everyone here knows, two highly developed fire chambers behind their lungs.  That's why dragon heartstrings and such are so desirable.  All of their 'chest' cavity is incredibly strong, and flammable to boot.  For obvious reasons.  Anyway, when I was doing my magizoologist apprenticeship with Pecus Fera, we went to Peru.  He was a bit of a gadabout, you remember?  Well, we came across a herd of dragons," she noticed the astounded look on Rachel's face.  "Yes – a herd.  Peru's a bit less cultivated than Romania.  You go into those forests, and there's no knowing what you'll find, which I _think_ is why we went there in the first place.  The Viperteeth all had some kind of problem that meant they couldn't breathe fire.  Turns out that they'd been eating some herbs containing some component that affected the workings of the fire chambers.  If that's Helios' problem, we can clear it up within a week.  It's not too serious, assuming you treat it properly.  Of course, poor Helios feels like it's the end of the world.  I daresay she's been more than a little tetchy recently.  It's because she's lost her most important defence mechanism."  As she spoke, Ria examined the dragon with gentle fingers, nimbly feeling scales and looking into Helios' eyes and down her throat.  Charlie couldn't help but marvel at the ease with which she did things.  He never really thought of Ria in a professional capacity – the two of them hardly ever saw each other when working, and it was all too easy to forget that she had trained with one of the best magizoologists Britain had ever produced.  Quite how she'd ended up in Romania, Charlie didn't know.  Ria's expertise ranged from Acromantula to Yeti, and yet she had chosen to spend her life incarcerated with dragons.  It was an odd decision.  By all accounts the young Rutherford had been of some renown within the magizoology circle, and great things had been expected of her.  Charlie wondered just what it was that had made his friend abandon such a promising career for the Romanian Outback.

  "Is it serious?" Rachel sounded nervous.

  "Hrmm?  Oh – Fire Chamber Corrosion?  Not at all – as I said, as long as you treat it…  And Helios is displaying all the symptoms.  I'll get Nigel to whip up the antidote for you, and with any luck she should be blasting fire with the rest of them within a fortnight."

  "Is it contagious?" Charlie asked, and wished he hadn't when a pair of frosty eyes fixed him to the spot.  Ria hadn't forgotten their discussion, then.

  "No, it's not," she told him, icily.  She turned to Rachel.  "I'll send Phoebus along with some instructions later, Rach.  You should be able to collect the potion this evening, if Nigel is running to schedule."

  "Thanks, Ri!"  Rachel smiled gratefully.  "I'll see you later, okay?"

  "Sure.  Come and visit Merri and me at some point.  We could always use your company.  Ciao."  Raising her hand, Ria wandered off in the opposite direction.

  "Why didn't she Apparate?" Josh asked, mystified.

  "She likes to walk," Charlie said, idly.  "Says that nature's too pretty to ignore by Apparating and Disapparating."

  "That's one odd girl you've got there, Charlie," Josh said, shaking his head.

  "I know."

*              *                *                *

                When Charlie arrived home that evening, the house was filled by a melodious voice singing a medieval ballad.  The voice he recognised as Ria's, but it was Merri who met him in the kitchen.

  "She hates arguing with you, you know," Merri told him, gently chastising him for provoking Ria into a response. 

  "Well, maybe she should be a bit more responsible-" Charlie began, unwilling to admit that perhaps he was in the wrong.  Merri raised her finger to her lips.

  "She has a point, you know.  You do mother her.  I've seen broody Puffskeins that fuss less than you do.  Let her live life a little.  Allow her to make her own mistakes.  Be there to pick up the pieces."

  "I-"

  "You're only trying to help," Merri completed the phrase for him.  "I know," she said, gently.  "But Ria doesn't need another parent.  She already has a mother and a father.  Nor does she need another overprotective sibling.  Her sisters are plenty for one girl to cope with.  What Ria needs, Charlie, is a friend.  Someone who won't judge her.  Someone who'll _offer_ advice, but accepts that she won't always take it.  Someone who won't say 'I told you so' when her life goes wrong.  Someone to pick up the pieces.  Think about it."  With that, Merri walked out of the kitchen, leaving Charlie to his thoughts.

                Merri had a point, of course she did.  But then, Merri was the one who seemed to be all knowing.  An odd type of calm emanated from her, and you couldn't help but listen to the quiet authority in her tone – the singsong voice with its lilting Scots burr had an almost hypnotising quality at times.  Merri could be relied on to see things clearly.  She was the peacemaker, the one who never argued.  Oh, she'd join in with the banter, but she never allowed Ria or Charlie to coerce her into fighting.  It was almost as though fighting was below her.  

                Charlie's brooding was interrupted when Ria walked into the kitchen.  She saw him, and turned around, leaving him with the briefest impression of well ripped jeans and wet hair.  A second later, he heard Ria's bedroom door slam.  Clearly she wasn't in the mood for another lecture.  Charlie grimaced.  It was as though he was the big bad father figure, and Ria was the naughty schoolgirl running away.  

  "Ria!  Wait!"  He called after her, making his way to her bedroom door.  This was going to be humiliating.  "Ri!  Open the door?  We need to talk."

  "Go away."  She sounded sullen.  That was not a good sign.

  "No.  Ri, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have been so…so…"

  "Irritating?  Rude?  Big for your boots?"  He felt reassured by the scathing element to her voice.

  "All of the above?"

  "I'm listening."

  "Through the keyhole."

  "What, you expect me to come down off of my melodramatic high horse straight away? I want poetic declarations of sorrow, Weasley.  I want to see you sweat."  He could almost see the gleeful look on her face.

  "Oh, do grow up, Ariadne Rutherford," he said, only half joking.  He heard a cough in response, and remembered that he was supposed to be bearing an olive branch.  "Ria, light of my life!  Without you I am not complete.  There is a gaping hole in my heart where you should be.  My life is over when you're not in it.  If you do not forgive me, I shall go and throw myself into the river."

  "Or maybe allow Helios to toast you with her new found fire?"  The door opened, and Ria stood there, grinning.  "Very poetic, dear.  A simple 'I'm sorry' would have sufficed."

  "But you…"

  "I do like to see you squirm," Ria smiled wickedly.  "And I was prepared to allow you to bugger off and drown yourself until Merri spoke to me.  So you might want to thank her."

  "She's already spoken to me," Charlie admitted.  "Told me I was too big for my boots, as you so aptly put it.  Pointed out that I'm _not_ your father, or your protector, or any of the above, and that as a good friend, my job is simply to pick up pieces.  Which doesn't bode too well for you, really."

  "I think I'll survive," Ria said, wryly.

  "I daresay you will.  And why didn't you tell me you were a trained magizoologist?"

  "I thought you knew!" Ria looked genuinely surprised.  

  "I did," Charlie admitted, slightly shamefaced.  "I just never really thought about it.  Anyway, why did you give it all up?  You could have been top of your field, if everything that they say is true.  So why are you rotting away in Romania?"

  "Firstly, I'm _not_ rotting," Ria said.  "Secondly…You'd better come in.  I have no intention of sharing the stories of my apprenticeship on the threshold."  She waved him towards her bed.  Charlie had been in Ria's room many times before, but generally the visits were whistle-stop as he tried to locate his favourite jumper, which Ria was in the habit of stealing.  "As you know, I left Hogwarts in 1987.  I could have left my education at that – that's what my sisters did.  But I've never really been into the whole debutante society girl milarkey, and so I decided that I was going to get myself a profession.  Mums was horrified, of course.  A woman of my means shouldn't take jobs away from women who needed them, she said.  But then, how many needy women are looking for jobs in magizoology?  Not many, I'll wager." 

  "I dunno – there's a sixty-forty male to female ratio on the reserve," Charlie pointed out.  Ria shook her head.

  "I did my research.  In Magizoology, the ratio is more like eighty-twenty.  Anyway, I was lucky.  A friend of dad's – someone he'd been in the Force with – had contacts in the zoological circle.  He offered to introduce me to Pecus Fera.  I'd have been a fool to refuse: Pecus was – _is_ – the greatest magizoologist of modern times.  He and I got on like a house on fire, and when Dad's friend mentioned that I wanted to go into the field he offered me an apprenticeship."

  "It's not all fancy frocks then, your father's life?"

  "Of course not," Ria replied, lightly.  "What on earth gave you that idea?"  She winked.  "Pecus was fantastic to be with.  He didn't believe in any of the textbook studying lark, he insisted that the only way to learn was to _do_.  So I spent a year gadding about the world with him, making discoveries, helping animals, documenting findings.  The usual stuff."

  "By all accounts, Miss Rutherford, you were very good at what you did.  Fera's greatest apprentice, according to some." Charlie smiled at her.

  "I doubt it," Ria blushed.

  "So what changed?  Fera declared his undying love for you?"

  "Hardly," Ria smirked.  "He was pushing it for sixty, after all, and _far_ too attached to his passion to _ever_ be interested in women."  She sighed.  "I met Aiden.  We had a whirlwind romance.  He was so utterly charming.  Pecus didn't like him, of course.  Said that I was doing myself a disservice, falling for a Quidditch player, and a mediocre one at that.  But somehow his warnings didn't make it through."  Her eyes darkened with an emotion that Charlie couldn't identify, and he squeezed her shoulder supportively.  "On some levels I suppose the glamour factor appealed to me.  Aiden and I rarely saw each other – he was always touring with his team, and I was always jet setting with Pecus.  We wrote, of course, but we never really got to know each other.  Not in the way that most lovers do.  We spent two weeks in Scotland, once.  That was the longest we were ever together for.  And that was when he proposed."  She sat, playing with her left ring finger, idly tracing the long since gone engagement ring.  Charlie noticed this, but didn't comment.  Somehow he knew that it was not a good idea to break the spell.  Ria so rarely told him of her past, and it was imperative that he understood.

  "I accepted," Ria told him, almost defensively.  "I was young, and I was starstruck.  Blinded by what I thought was love.  I barely knew Aiden, but he was handsome, he was famous, and he made me feel like a goddess.  We were engaged, and then we continued on our merry way.  He carried on playing Quidditch, I carried on with Pecus, doing what I loved."  She paused, and Charlie was suddenly aware of the chill of her fingers.  "But when…when…I couldn't stay in the same life, Charlie.  Not knowing what he had done.  I had to get away.  Pecus was devastated, of course.  Tried pleading, threatening, cajoling…I didn't want to leave him, he didn't want me to leave.  We kept each other company.  But I needed to get away, and he could never have left his life.  It was part of him.  So he arranged for me to come and work here.  He knew how much I loved dragons – I've always been fascinated by them.  I was still in the trade.  I suppose he thought that perhaps one day I would return to magizoology.  But I'm too set in my ways now, too comfortable here.  I _never_ want to go back."

  "Never is a long time," Charlie said, gently, rubbing his hand down her spine.

  "Too long," Ria admitted.  "For some things.  But not for others.  And I never want to go back to being the naïve eighteen year old I was then.  I thought I had a future.  I thought for me it would be different."  Even talking about it her face brightened.  Then she stopped, and suddenly she looked old, much older than her years.  "I was wrong."

  "You have a future," Charlie told her, hugging her to him.  "You _do_, Ria.  It might not be the future you envisaged, but you _do_ make a difference.  Maybe not in the same way as you did.  But you do.  Hold on to faith, Ri.  And never let the sun set on your dreams."  

****


	15. Chapter 15 Professional Misdemeanour

**Spiritus aduro**

_My dear readers - I am heartily sorry. Believe me when I tell you that I did not intend to spend over a year working on one chapter. This has been a particularly difficult part to write, and has been through more incarnations than I care to remember. It has finally met with my lovely editor, Andy's, approval, and thus I am at liberty to make it available to my readers. If you're still reading after such a long time, then kudos to you. The last year has been somewhat crazy in my neck of the woods, lots of changes. I won't say when Part XVI will be up, because I can't guarantee my pace. I promise you that I'm not planning to abandon Ria and Charlie to their fates, though, and hopefully this will be concluded by the beginning of 2006!! _

Thanks, as always, to Andy for the support and editing he so willingly gives, and also to my other half, who has offered me unfailing support throughout the past year, and who was responsible for the final edit. Also, many thanks to the ladies of the SugarQuill Workshop 2, who supported me through the final manifestation of this baby. Thanks to you all. :o)

**Part XV**

Making sure that the door was locked behind him, Charlie picked up the basket he had prepared for Ria and set off on his way, his relaxed stride setting a rhythmic backing for his chirpy whistle. He was pretty happy with life as it stood. After the unmitigated disaster that had been the Valentine's Ball, and the emotional turmoil that it had created, things had really settled down, on the domestic front at least. Ria seemed to be pretty happy with life - something he was always pleased to note; Merri appeared to be on Cloud Nine and hopelessly in love, which was both sweet and irritating, and as for himself…well, he was pretty good too. All in all, life was going rather well.

It didn't take him long to reach the paddock where Ria was working with Trident, a young Hungarian Horntail, trying to convince the notoriously stubborn dragon that mating was both natural and right. Thus far, it appeared that she was having little success. 

"There's a good boy," she crooned, when the dragon deigned to enter the mating paddock. "Good boy, Trident!" Lovingly, she raised her hand to stroke his side, apparently oblivious to the fact that the reason dragons weren't allowed at Hogwarts because they'd fall under the category of 'confiscated and highly dangerous', or indeed, 'run like hell'! Charlie watched her in awe, as she talked to her charge, treating him as though he was a child. Trident was notoriously difficult to manage, and although all the researchers had been willing to work with him, Ria seemed to have a magic touch. Whether this was due to instinctive talent or training, Charlie didn't know, but her technique worked, and as the other researchers were required elsewhere, Trident had become Ria's pet project.

Setting the basket at his feet, he raised his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, startling both Ria and Trident. The dragon reared, its lethal tail thrashing, nearly knocking Ria off of her feet. Skittishly, he backed out of the mating paddock and back into the familiar confines of his own territory. Ria hurried towards him, soothing him with love-words.

"It's all right, sweetheart. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you, my precious. I won't let anyone hurt you. There, there. It's all right. I'm here. You're okay. I'll look after you. You're fine, darling. It's all fine..." Charlie marvelled at the patience in her tone, and her obvious affection for the yellow-eyed creature. There was a definite maternal undertone to her words, and the femininity of her actions surprised him. 

Then she rounded on him, and all semblance of a nursing mother flew out of the window as she fixed him with a glare, of which Molly Weasley would have been proud.

"_What_ did you do _that_ for?" she demanded. "We had come so far. I've been working on getting him _into_ the damn paddock for the last four weeks, and _now _look what you've gone and done! Are you mad? On loony tablets? Suffering from the after effects of a Memory Charm? You _know_ you don't startle dragons at this time of year! You _know_ you don't!"

"Sure," Charlie said, torn between annoyance at her countenance and amusement at her words. "But generally, it's considered proper for a dragon's _keeper_ to _eat_ every now and again." She looked at him as though eating was a foreign concept. "I brought you lunch," he added, unnecessarily holding up his basket.

"Oh... Thank you." She had the grace to look embarrassed. "You still shouldn't have upset Trident." She glanced in the direction of the Horntail, who was now crunching the some unfortunate creature's bones with relish.

"Sorry," Charlie said, forcing a contrite measure into his voice. "Are you going to be in before nine this evening, do you think? I was wondering whether I should keep dinner until later...you should come home earlier, you know... Falling into bed in the wee hours isn't good for you..."

"I _know_ that," Ria sighed, tiredly. "But I have a job to do, and Trident here isn't the easiest of customers. And no one else will go near him, poor baby!" She really did sound aghast at the slight being made towards her pet. "I can't just _leave_ him."

"Ria, my dear, I hate to point out the obvious, but Trident is a fully grown Hungarian Horntail. He's the most lethal breed of dragon known to man. I think we can fairly safely say that he is fully equipped to look after himself. And as for no one else going near him - they did, until you got your knickers in a twist and insisted that they were...what was it... 'about as much good as a broken wand?'...in dealing with him."

"He's only a baby," Ria countered. "And it's all very overwhelming for him, poor mite. Besides, if I don't make sure he's fully settled, he might _eat_ somebody, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" There it was again, that barely disguised annoyance.

"No, of course not." Charlie glanced at his watch. He had five minutes to get half way across the reserve. Ria's antics had delayed him considerably more than he had anticipated. "Much as I'd love to stay and discuss all of Trident's...er...shortcomings..., I really do have to get going."

"Yeah, yeah," Ria brushed him off. "You're scared of him, just like the rest of those sorry excuses for professionals. Well, cry me a river. Go on then. Off you go."

"See you later!" Charlie chose to ignore her jibe, knowing it to be false anyway. "AND DON'T FORGET TO EAT!" he yelled, as he left the paddock, earning himself another death stare. He grinned, and continued on his way.

*

Charlie had his hand up the business end of a Peruvian Vipertooth when Jon's owl arrived, and consequently, it took him a while to get around to reading it. Vipertooths don't tend to appreciate human hands at the best of times, and Charlie wasn't prepared to risk his life at the hands of an enraged reptile, no matter how urgent Jon's message was! Several keepers had voiced concerns that the Vipertooth might have some sort of infection of it's reproductive system, and Charlie had drawn the short straw. As far as he could feel, there was nothing ailing the dragon that a good kick up the backside couldn't fix, not that he was volunteering for _that_ particular task!

Once he had scrubbed himself clean of the Vipertooth's excrement, Charlie finally caught the owl, and untied the message. As he read it, he absentmindedly fed her a treat.

_'Charlie,   
Please come to my office as soon as is humanly possible - there should be a relief keeper available to take your position in the field. I have just had a very interesting conversation with a Ministry official in London, and it would appear that we are required to turn our skills to their ends once again.   
Jon'_

Charlie couldn't imagine what London wanted that was so important. The breeding season was the reserve's busiest and most stressful time, and it was very rare for Jon - or indeed, any of the higher-ups - to allow any of their personnel time off until all of the dragons had mated successfully. Even then it was generally accepted that leave would not be granted until the final egg had hatched. Baby dragons being particularly susceptible to illness, it was imperative that there was always a keeper on hand to ensure a safe first month or so. Whatever the bureaucrats wanted, it would have to be pretty extraordinary for Jon to act against the strictures of dragon care passed down through the centuries. An image of The front page of the Daily Prophet formed in his mind, with the headline 'Dragon Ruins Annual St George Feast. Aurors Suggest An Irony Curse Is To Blame.' The Ilfracombe incident also came to mind, and he was torn between an heroic desire to save the day, and the beginnings of a headache, thinking of all the memory charms that would have to be administered. Still, at least that wasn't his job. He'd never been too good at such things; the one time he had tried it on Percy, his mother had still found out about the ferret, and that he was breeding kneazles besides!

Having arranged for the relief keeper to cover for him, Charlie hurried into the woods that shielded Jon's hut from drunken employees, ensuring that he didn't wake up to discovered that the exterior had been turned a brilliant shade of fuchsia overnight. It was a fair trot from the dragons' enclosures to Jon's hut, but Charlie participated in rough physical work for a living, and besides, it wasn't especially dangerous.

Jon met Charlie upon his arrival at the hut, and ushered him through the living quarters to his office. It struck Charlie as odd that the architect had designed the hut in such a way that its owner was constantly subject to scrutiny from potentially unfriendly eyes, but the regimented tidiness of it all suggested that it wasn't much of an issue to Jon himself. Jon's office was strangely bare of any type of décor. Painted in white with a simple blind at the window, it was dominated by a huge desk, at which Jon now sat. It was covered in papers, parchment and quills. Jon gestured for Charlie to take a seat, and then took the seat opposite him, rifling through various sheets of parchment as he did so. 

"I'm sorry to have brought you here," he apologised. "I know how busy you all are at the moment. You know I would avoid this kind of interruption if I could, but it appears that our colleagues at the Ministry of Magic are of the opinion that our services are indispensable. Whether we should take that as a compliment or not, I'll leave you to decide."

"It's the Ministry," Charlie said, grinning. "When have they ever cared about us? We're just lackeys to them, keeping the dangerous creatures away from their prize pagodas! I swear, some of them think that this is like a holiday job with a domestic magizoologist!"

"Quite," Jon agreed, a mixture of amusement and tiredness in his tone. "I really am sorry, Charlie, but it really can't be helped. I don't like this assignment particularly much, but for once I'm inclined to agree with the Ministry. We have to deal with it."

"What exactly does 'it' involve?" Charlie asked, curiously. It was unlike Jon to beat about the bush.

"A trip to Siberia. possibly prolonged," Jon replied, rubbing at his temples. He sighed. "Basically, a colony of Ironbellies appear to be threatening the Muggle population, and our Russian counterparts are at their wits' end as to what to do. The Ministry sent me a communiqué to that effect this morning, and I've just finished talking with one of their diplomacy men. By all accounts, these dragons are a particularly wild lot. I need two keepers to go, and they need to be good. Obviously, I'm asking you to go...?"

"Of course," Charlie said, although he wasn't smiling. He accepted that it was his duty to protect innocents from the threat of dragon attack, but the prospect of a trip to Siberia didn't exactly thrill him. It wasn't that he didn't like the col...he did...but really, deserts, sunny or otherwise, were Bill's speciality, not his. Then again, he could make his heroic debut. Such a thought brought the smile back to his lips. It was more likely that he was going to spend a few days with fiddling with unmentionable dragon parts, ensuring the safety of the population. Still, his duty was to serve, and although Siberia didn't appeal to him in the same way somewhere more exotic...say Tenerife, or Barbados...did, he was pleased to be of service to wizardkind. Suddenly a thought struck him. "Who else are you intending to send?"

Jon hesitated, and Charlie could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. He knew what the answer would be before Jon said it.

"Ria."

"She's not going to like it, you know. She'll kick up a right royal fuss. You'll be lucky if she says yes."

"She doesn't really have an option," Jon said. "She has to say yes. She's the best we've got. I'll see to it that she says yes."

"You think it's going to be that easy? You clearly don't know Ria," Charlie felt a bubble of concern develop in his stomach. "She can well and truly stick her heels in, if she wants to. Do you think it's fair to ask her, even? She's been under a lot of stress recently."

"I can accept that," Jon said, tiredly. "But there's a limit to how much we can coddle her. People's lives are at risk. At the end of the day, we can't sacrifice the lives of innocents to suit the whims of a spoiled kid. Ria knows her duty. She'll do what she's told."

Charlie was about to question the morality of such a decision, and object to Jon's description of Ria as a 'spoiled kid', but a rap at the door interrupted him.

"That will be Ria. Would you mind...?"

Wordlessly, Charlie left the room and made to open the door to his friend. Ria looked very put out at the interruption into her life.

"Charlie?! What are you doing here? Is Jon having some sort of crisis? Merri dumped him, has she?" She didn't sound too happy, either.

"No," Charlie said, quietly, and led her to the office. Once in there, Jon waved/gestured for both of them to take a seat. Glowering, Ria did so immediately, but Charlie paused behind his chair for a second, fixing Jon with a warning stare, before settling into it once again. Both of them looked at Jon expectantly, Charlie hoping that Ria wouldn't resist too much, and praying that Jon would exercise restraint in his dealing with her.

"I imagine you're wondering why I've called you here," Jon began. Charlie instantly noted the authoritative nature of his address; so completely different from the informal conversation he'd had with Charlie a minute ago. "It's a matter of some delicacy, I'm afraid, and it requires professionals of a certain calibre. The Ministry has managed to involve the reserve in matters of diplomacy. Naturally, I'm not too happy about this, but they are justified in their requests." Charlie glanced sideways at Ria, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. Well, generally if Jon summoned you at a time like this, you weren't going to like the consequences. This time, in particular, she really wasn't going to like the consequences "You are well aware," Jon continued, "that this reserve is possibly the leading institute of its kind in the world. As an international body, we are under some obligation to ensure that the entire wizarding population is safeguarded from any potential threat, regardless of political or religious motivation. Such a clause was detailed on the contract that you were required to sign on joining the reserve." Charlie wondered why Jon didn't just cut to the chase, instead of talking about paperwork. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ria looking at him, hoping for reassurance. None was forthcoming, a frown was etched on his features, and his usually jolly eyes were distinctly serious. Jon paused and glanced at a rather lengthy piece of parchment: "I received this communiqué from London this morning. In it are detailed instructions pertaining to a wizarding colony in Siberia. It seems the Russian Ministry has requested assistance in ensuring the security of the peoples in question."

"And you want us to go?" Ria was incredulous.

"Yes."

Charlie waited for the inevitable explosion. He was not to be disappointed.

"Are you _mad_?! Do you know anything about Russian history?! You're sending us into a politically volatile nation that could blow up at any time. More than that, you're sending us to _Siberia_ of all places! Do you know what the Muggles used Siberia for? They sent people to _die_ there!"

Charlie had to give Ria her due...she certainly had a flair for dramatic outbursts. He sincerely hoped that Jon knew what he was doing. He was uncomfortably aware of the tension in the room. He also thought that Ria was being childish. Her complaints were somewhat irrelevant, given that human lives were in danger. He was torn between anger at her inability to see beyond her own worldview, and sympathy for her current plight.

"I am aware of the history of the nation, Ria. That is irrelevant in the current case. If you'd allow me to continue..." Ria reluctantly acquiesced. "The matter in question is one of some delicacy. As I imagine you know, the population of Russian wizards have long been estranged from their Muggle counterparts, ever since the Middle Ages. The friction between the tsarist aristocracy's fear of assassination led to Muggle persecution of wizards. In the interest of ethics, the Russia's magical population deemed that it would be wise for them to separate from the Muggle world, and in 1654 they set themselves up as an independent state. They are, to date, the only such state in existence. They are governed by strict laws. They have practised a programme of segregation from Muggles for so long now that they view it as imperative to retain their distance. They have had difficulty with a colony of Ukrainian Ironbellies, and are increasingly concerned that the Muggle population is at risk. Consequently they have requested the assistance of the reserve, and naturally we have accepted."

"But why _us_?" Ria asked, and Charlie had to admit that she had a point, although, again, it was somewhat beside the point. They were wasting time, and dangerous creatures were putting the lives of innocents at risk. Finding out why they had been chosen for the task was pretty low down on his list of priorities at that moment. "Don't they have any specialists of their own? Why come to _us_ for help?"

"I don't know," Jon admitted candidly, and Charlie began to hope that the conversation wouldn't be as much of a disaster as he had anticipated. Ria's concerns were understandable, although he thought she was placing too much weight on Muggle politics, but thus far Jon had dealt with them well.

"You don't _know_?" Charlie realised that he had hoped too soon. Jon would only be able to cope with Ria's dramatics for so long before he snapped. "How can you send us there when you don't even know _why_ it has to be us?"

"I can. I have to. I have all the necessary paperwork here. You should be on your way this evening."

Ria told Jon where he could place his paperwork, although in far more colourful terms. Charlie hadn't been aware that she even knew such obscenities, and he sincerely wished he hadn't had cause to find out. You could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. He realised he was staring at Ria when she spoke again.

"What?" she demanded. "You don't want to go, do you?"

He began to feel the beginnings of anger rising in his gut. Of course he didn't want to go, but it wasn't about wanting or not wanting to do things. It was about doing what was right, and protecting others. Unbidden, an image of his parents and siblings came to mind. If they'd been at risk then he'd want someone to help them. Going to Siberia wasn't desirable, but it was right. And Ria was just being bloody minded if she couldn't see that. He was about to tell her as much, but fortunately, Jon spoke first.

"It's not a case of wanting to go, Ria. You have to go. You signed a contract."

"To hell with contracts!I've had it up to _here_ with _contracts_! I signed on to this job to look after dragons, not to lose my life! I'm not going."

It was going to be a battle of wills, then. Charlie looked from one to the other, almost sensing the clash of swords. He didn't want to be here. He was tired of mediating in petty quarrels, and for all the while they were fighting, there were people out there at risk. He wanted to shout at them both, but something held him back.

"I beg your pardon?" Jon's tone was icy, but Ria met his eyes unflinchingly.

"I said I'm not going," she said, simply. "I can't afford to leave Trident right now, and I don't want to go to Siberia."

"I'm sorry," Jon still looked every inch the boss. "There's no one else that can go, Miss Rutherford. It has to be you. There are factors beyond our control involved. Russia is not a politically stable country. You can't refuse to go."

"I just did," Ria said defiantly. "Charlie! Back me up here! He can't make us do this!"

Charlie looked at her disbelievingly. What was he supposed to say? Of course Jon couldn't force her to go, but that was neither here nor there. He felt his barely contained anger rise again.

"No, he can't _make_ you go," Charlie admitted, forcing himself to remain calm. "It's a free country. You can walk out of here and go home tonight if that's what you want to do. You'd be breaking your contract, of course, but pay can be withheld in lieu of notice. Do you really want to do that, Ria?"

He congratulated himself on remaining diplomatic, in spite of the battle instinct raging inside him. Deep down he knew that shouting at Ria would get him nowhere, and he knew as well as Jon did that, other than Jon himself, she was the best qualified person for the job in hand. Then Ria shot him a look that distinctly said 'traitor', and he was torn between a desire to physically knock some sense into her and frustration that she was now annoyed with him as well.

"Don't be stupid, Miss Rutherford," Jon said, authoritatively. "This is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Ria spluttered. "Ri_dic_ulous?" She fixed him with a steely glare. "No one ever thinks about what I want around here. Maybe I don't want to be a hero. Maybe I just want to mind my own business and do the job I signed up to do. Just _what_ do you think I am, that you dictate orders to me as though I was a common scullery maid?!"

"What you are, Miss Rutherford, is an employee. What you want is, of course, important to me, but our first concern has to be for the greater good. And I am convinced that you and Mr Weasley are the only people who can satisfactorily do the job. You have until tomorrow morning to make your decision. I understand that you've been under considerable personal stress recently, but I will not have the reputation of this institution in any way tarnished."

"Maybe I don't give a damn about your 'institution', Jonathan Sommers. Maybe, just maybe, I've had it with your over-blown, sycophantic paper-spewing reserve! Oh, you think you have power...well, it might not be a democracy, Mister Sommers, but I still have my _rights_. _You_ might like to think about _that_!" With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, leaving Jon and Charlie gaping in her wake. 

*

"Well, that went well," Jon remarked, drily, once they had recovered from Ria's dramatic exit.

"I don't know what else you were expecting, to be quite honest," Charlie said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of his tone, as he rose to his feet. Whilst he didn't agree with Ria's behaviour - it was verging on childish, the way she'd refused to go - he didn't think that Jon had dealt with the situation in the most tactful of ways, either.

"I was _expecting_ to be treated with the respect I deserve," Jon said, calmly. "It may have escaped your notice, but _I_ am in charge around here, not Ariadne Rutherford. And it is considered usual to do as you're told in the employment hierarchy."

"Sure. But you could have been politer about it."

"I _was_ polite.

"No, Jon, you were condescending. And you know that Ria hates it when people patronise her." Charlie resisted the urge to throttle the man in front of him. Jon sat, composed, behind his desk. It was as if he didn't care about Ria at all, and Charlie knew that wasn't true. He also knew that there was something more than a trip to Siberia behind the friction between his friends.

"Look, Charlie," Jon met his gaze frankly. "It's not just a case of sign this and do that in this job, you know. It's about being a leader, taking responsibility. And all leaders have to make sacrifices of their people. That's what I'm doing with Ria. You need her in Russia. I know that, you know that, and deep down, Ria knows that. But she would never agree to it if I just asked her. You know that."

"She hasn't agreed to it now," Charlie pointed out, still frustrated. Whilst Jon had a point - Ria was unlikely to willingly accept a ticket to Russia - he still felt that a less fraught atmosphere would have made her more receptive to such a proposal.

"She will." Jon said, confidently. "My family has known the Rutherfords for centuries. They always do the right thing. Always. It's all part of their 'honour before honours' motto. It's not just something on the family crest - they live by it. They might be one of the highest-ranking families in the world - and they are, you know - but there's this whole 'we must live up to our responsibility' ethos floating around. It used to drive my mother crazy."

"Is that all this is? A power trip? I thought better of you! You know that Ria will do the right thing, you _knew_ that! What was all the patronising about, then? And the condescending? Was that just to make you feel big?

"Power trip?" Jon looked scathing. "Is that what you think this is?" Charlie looked at him, startled by the bitterness of his expression. "This has nothing to do with power trips. It's about peoples' lives. Real people, Charlie. People like you and me. I don't know much about the situation in Russia, but if the Ministry want us involved, I can guarantee that it's potentially life threatening. And I don't want to be responsible for some child losing a family member. _Power_ has nothing to do with it. Survival, on the other hand..."

"And you think that your power games are going to make a difference in Ria's decision making process? I can tell you now that all you've done is frustrate her. That's never a good thing, particularly not with Ria. She's a reasonable woman, and she'd have been _much_ more likely to listen if you'd treated her with the respect that she deserves. Instead of which, you treated her like a child-" Jon opened his mouth to protest at that, but Charlie waved him aside, allowing his anger free reign. "You _did_ treat her like a child, Jon, and a naughty child at that. She's been working herself sick out there, and you showed absolutely no sensitivity to her at all. As long as you patronise, condescend and bully her - or pull rank, if you prefer to call it that - she's not going to be receptive to you. You should know that."

"Are you questioning my professionalism?" Jon demanded, and there was a dangerous note in his voice now.

"Yes," said Charlie, in a suddenly quiet voice. "I think I am. I think that rather than treating Ria as an employee, you're trying to show that even though you've always been close, and you grew up together, you can still be the one in charge. You're letting childish competitiveness affect your professional judgement, and I - I for one disagree with it." And with that, he turned on his heel and left.

*

Taking the long route through the forest, Charlie mused over how to approach Ria and convince her that her actions had been rude, rash and downright foolish. There was also the small matter of convincing her to reconsider her decision, and persuading her that a trip to one of the coldest, most inhospitable landscapes of the world was actually a good idea. He sighed. It was going to be a long, slow walk home at this rate. He paused to look up at the canopy created by the branches of the ancient trees that surrounded him. Touching one with one hand, and rubbing his temple wearily with the other, he pondered. Judging by the way that Ria had stormed out, she was in no mood to be 'dealt' with. It was imperative that he didn't treat her like a child. At the same time, her actions had been childish. Understandable, certainly, especially given Jon's manner, but childish nonetheless. Would it be possible to reason with her? As a general rule, Ria reacted well to scientific thinking, but his gut instinct was that no, reasoning would not help in this instance. And what option did that leave him? Coaxing. But coaxing-

"Charlie!" He was startled out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. "Why are you being propped up by a tree? Are you drunk?"

"No," he shook his head. "Just stupid. Mediating a...discussion...between your other half and Ria."

"That _is_ stupid," Merri said, laughing. "I bumped into Ria on the way out. She didn't seem too happy. Muttered something derogatory about Jon!"

"Sounds about right," Charlie sighed. "To be honest, I can't say I blame her. He wasn't at his best this afternoon."

"He's under a lot of pressure," Merri told him. "The Ministry wants to cut funds to the reserve. If that happens, he'll have to let some of the staff go. He doesn't want that to happen."

"That explains a lot," Charlie told her. He hesitated, and then decided that Jon would probably tell her anyway. Besides, it wasn't as if the Siberian field trip was top secret. "He wants Ria and me to go to Siberia - the Ministry has asked him to send a couple of keepers."

"And if he doesn't do what they ask, he's definitely not going to get the funding," Merri finished his train of thought for him.

"No wonder he was terse," Charlie said. "It didn't do his cause much good, though."

"No, well...Ria rarely responds to antsy people. Goodness only knows why - she was engaged to Aiden Pontin, and he was about as antsy as you could get."

"Key word there: was." Charlie pointed out, sighing again.

"You reckon there's more to it?"

"Perhaps. Who knows? It's not like Ria's telling us anything. She doesn't need to - we're only her colleagues after all." Even to his own ears, Charlie sounded bitter.

"Soft on her, are you, Charlie?" Merri surveyed him critically.

"No."

"Sure. Anyway, saying that Ri views you as a 'colleague' isn't exactly fair. She thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread!"

"She certainly has a funny way of showing it," Charlie said, ruefully.

"Maybe. But her personal history is exactly that...hers. She'll tell you what she needs to tell you in her own time. You just have to be patient, that's all."

"I know. But it's not always easy." He hefted himself up. "And reasoning with her about Siberia isn't going to be easy, either."

"That's true," Merri squeezed his arm. "But you will. You always do." She smiled at him. "I'd best get going, though. Jon will worry if I'm not there before dark."

Charlie watched her retreating figure, thinking. Merri was right, of course. Ria wouldn't volunteer any more information than she wanted to. That didn't make it any easier though. Wearily, he trudged onwards. He wasn't looking forward to getting home. Life with Ria was a balancing act, and tilting the scales had potentially catastrophic consequences, not just for the two of them, but also for the dragon reserve as a whole. 


	16. Chapter 16 Once Bitten

Spiritus aduro  
Part XVI  
  
Ria stirred in her sleep, and snuggled closer to her companion, not caring about their identity in her unconscious state. If she had been fully cognisant of her actions, the chances of such an action occurring were next to nil. But her surroundings were cold, and somewhere, a subconscious part of her relished in the comfort of an embrace. It had been a long time since she had been held so intimately, and in truth, she had missed the security that such a display of affection bred. Muttering a little, she pressed cold feet against her companion's thighs, and allowed the warmth to seep into her extremities.  
  
When she awoke, several hours later, Ria was at a loss as to how she had come to find herself in Charlie's arms. Still slightly dopey from the night, she did not immediately remove herself from them, but rather savoured his very solid presence beside her. Then reality caught up with her, and she moved away as fast as was possible. Charlie was a wonderful friend, and Ria could easily accept that he was desirable as a member of the opposite sex, but she was not yet willing to let go of the past. Trust and intimacy went hand in hand, and whilst Ria could trust Charlie as a friend, she was unable to trust anyone as more than that. To allow Charlie past her carefully constructed façade meant allowing him to breach her defences, and behind the mask of ease and confidence, Ria was still hurting. She looked towards the bed wistfully, remembering a time when such an embrace would not have scared her. But such thoughts did her no good, and so, with a resigned shrug, she left her companion to sleep, and filled the kettle with water. A cup of tea would warm her just as effectively as Charlie could, even if a cup of tea did not offer the same level of protection from the wear and tear of every day life.  
  
The time that they had spent in Siberia had seemed to fly by and yet to have lasted for an eternity. It seemed like only yesterday that she and Charlie had been summoned to Jon's office, but Ria envisaged that it would not be much longer before they packed their bags and returned to the Reserve. She viewed their departure with mixed feelings; she longed to return home, but she was not looking forward to the awkwardness that her return would inevitably provoke. The meeting with Jon, and her subsequent actions still played on her mind...  
  
They had travelled through Bulgaria to the Ukraine, and were now sitting at Customs, waiting for a Portkey to take them to Siberia. For the first time since their departure, they had the opportunity to talk. It was only a matter of time before Charlie brought up the inevitable topic of Ria's change of heart. She doubted that she would be able to explain her motives to him, but she knew him too well to hope that he wouldn't ask. Sure enough, they had been sitting in the dingy lounge for all of five minutes when Charlie began to speak.  
  
"You know, I still don't understand what changed your mind."  
  
"I don't expect you would," she told him, stalling.  
  
"Try me," was Charlie's simple response.  
  
"My father," Ria replied, knowing that he wouldn't be fobbed off with that, either.  
  
"What about him?" Charlie looked confused. Ria would warrant that whatever answers he had contemplated, paternal intervention did not feature.  
  
"I talked to Daddy," she explained.  
  
"What's his secret?" Charlie joked, earning himself a glare. Her father was one of the few people that Ria would defer to, regardless of her temper. He had brought his family up to respect their elders, and he still commanded the authority that he had wielded so effectively when she was a small girl.  
  
"He's my father, Charlie. Your mother would probably be able to get you to do your washing if she wanted to, and that's well nigh on impossible."  
  
"Fair point," Charlie admitted, and he seemed to be prepared to leave it there. Ria, however, began to feel guilty. He had undoubtedly returned to the flat with the idea of talking her into accepting Jon's strictures, and had instead found her packing her suitcase. If she didn't explain her change of heart fully now he would only weasel it out of her at a later date.  
  
"Dad was always in charge of discipline in our house," she began. "I'm not saying that Mums was a pushover; she most definitely was not, but if my father told you to do something you did it. He wasn't at home very often when we were little – he was an Auror – so we grew up holding him up on a pedestal. When we did see him, we wanted him to be proud of us. So, if Mums told us off for something, of course we'd feel guilty, but it wasn't a big deal. If Daddy was involved, then we would be heartbroken. He never raised his voice, and he never used any kind of corporal punishment. He was disappointed with us, and that was harder to deal with than any harsh words or actions.  
  
I've always been close to Daddy; I suppose I'm a Daddy's girl to a greater extent than any of the others. Lucy and Becca tended to turn to each other for advice, and Gemma is and has always been Mums' little girl. But Daddy always made the effort with me, perhaps because he was worried about how I'd cope with being adopted. Anyway, when I have problems, Dad is the one I turn to. After talking to Jon, I went home and spoke to him. I ranted and raved, and was generally self-righteous, and he let me get on with it. And then I asked him what he thought.  
  
'You're an adult Ria,' he said to me. 'I can't tell you that you have to do your maths, or that I'll be disappointed if you don't do your handwriting. This is your life, and you have to make your own mistakes. But I brought you up to do what was right. Remember that.' That was all he said, but that was all it took. The right thing was to do as Jon wanted. I still don't agree with his methods, but I accept that I have to do this."  
  
Charlie didn't say anything then, he just looked at her with a respect she hadn't noticed before. She was so used to perceiving her friend as the frivolous one that she tended to forget that Charlie had a serious side. Nevertheless, behind his sense of humour there was a steely determination to make the best of life, and he respected those who had a similar mindset. Ria knew that he cared deeply for her, but until then she hadn't fully understood just how deep his regard for her was. She was more than a friend or colleague. She was a kindred spirit.  
  
Six weeks had passed since their arrival in Siberia, and Ria and Charlie were now almost used to the constant gibberish that surrounded them. At least, it sounded like gibberish, although they knew that it must have been some kind of Russian dialect. On top of that, there were Keepers from the other nations involved in the Romanian Reserve, and Ria had once rather aptly stated that they appeared to be living in the Tower of Babel!  
  
The dragon experts had all been assigned to a small hamlet consisting of half a dozen cottages and not much else. Each country had sent two experts, and each team was allotted a ramshackle hut to serve as their base. Ria could not forget her horror when she viewed her Spartan surroundings for the first time. The hut was about twelve square feet, and it was dominated by a single bed. There was a hole in the roof in one corner, where there was a makeshift kitchen area. Washing facilities comprised of a bowl and pitcher. It was like stepping back in time, only without the charm that the old paintings implied. She wondered how people survived living in such squalor. Later she had discovered that the wizarding populace lived in real houses with proper amenities; the huts had been abandoned decades ago when the more modern complex was built.  
  
Sighing, Ria set the kettle to boil and set off with the pitcher to the fresh water trough at the side of the house. She missed her shower, but she had come to terms with the limited hygiene provisions. Having got her quarry, she returned to the hut and watched as Charlie began to stir. Resisting the temptation to pounce on him, she set to pouring hot and cold water into the bowl. Pulling the dilapidated screen around herself, she stripped off and splashed the warm water over her body, enjoying the freshness that it imparted.  
  
"What time is it?" Charlie's sleepy voice interrupted her ablutions.  
  
"About seven, I think," she told him, towelling herself off.  
  
"Too early..." came the mumbled reply. Ria smirked knowingly.  
  
"You know, Charlie, if you will while the night away talking to beautiful women then you deserve to feel like something the cat brought in the next morning. I only hope it was worth it."  
  
"The only beautiful woman I whiled the night away with was you, Miss Rutherford," Charlie said smugly, as she emerged from behind the screen.  
  
"Oh, so Elise and Maria were just figments of my imagination then, were they," she responded tartly. "Face it, Charlie, you are a stud."  
  
"I am not!" he complained, gingerly sitting up in bed. "I can't help it if women throw themselves at me. It's not my fault that the only woman I'm interested in has no interest in doing anything other than sleeping when she's in bed with me."  
  
Ria looked at him sharply, and blushed as her brain processed the implication of his words.  
  
"Do be serious," she chastised him.  
  
"Anyway," Charlie began, in a tone that did not bode well for her, "I'm not the only one with admirers. Alexei seemed pretty taken with you, if I recall..."  
  
"Alexei is three, Charlie," she pointed out, scathingly. "I don't think he admired me in quite the same way as those hussies admire you!"  
  
"Jealous, are we?" Charlie asked, smirking.  
  
"No," Ria responded tartly. "I'd rather spend my evenings with Alexei than listen to you whisper sweet nothings in my ear, but then I'm immune to your charms...must come from living with them."  
  
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Charlie mocked, as he began his own ablutions.  
  
"You go on thinking that if it makes you feel good," Ria told him. "I'm going for a walk." The last thing she heard before leaving the hut was Charlie's mocking taunt.  
  
"Temper temper..."  
  
"You know, your friend is rather good looking," Maria Garibaldi told Ria as the two of them sat down in the building that served as headquarters for their current operations. "Is he seeing anyone?"  
  
"Well, he went to see the Reserve psychiatrist a while ago," Ria told her, "but she told him that there wasn't much he could do about his stunning looks and personality, and offered him her own brand of medicine. He hasn't seen anyone since then – I think he was traumatised." The Italian woman was very good at her job, but Ria was not fond of her lascivious nature, hence her retort. Maria had been romantically linked with just about every man in the area in the course of the six weeks they'd been there, and whether the rumours were true or not, Ria found the way Maria was ogling her friend to be rather disturbing.  
  
"You're quite the comedian," Maria said, although her tone implied otherwise. "I'll take it that I'm free to have a stab at him, then."  
  
"Sure, any time," Ria said, her voice deceptively sweet. "Just remember who he shares a bed with..." With that threat, she left the tall woman to her own devices, and headed for the local dragon expert, Dmitri Ivanovich Petrov and his partner, Tatiana Sergeevna.  
  
"Dobroe utroe!" Tanya greeted her. Ria smiled. She had grown very fond of the diminutive Russian over the course of their stay, and would be sad to lose her company.  
  
"Good morning, Tanya, Dima," she nodded to them both. "How are you both today?"  
  
"We are well, I think," Dima responded.  
  
"That's good to hear."  
  
"How are you?" Tanya asked, politely.  
  
"I'm ok," Ria sighed. "I think just about every woman in the area has their sights set on Charlie though. I beginning to tire of saving him from their claws."  
  
"Perhaps he does not want to be saved," Tanya suggested.  
  
"I don't doubt it," Ria told her. "But Charlie often wants things that aren't good for him. Trust me, those women would do nothing but use him and abuse him."  
  
"I think they're very nice," Dima said, innocently, earning him a glare from Ria and an amused smile from Tanya.  
  
"Well, you're a man," Ria said, disparagingly. "You have no intuition. What do you think, Tanya?"  
  
"I think that you are in love with Charlie yourself, my friend."  
  
"Sure, and pigs might fly," Ria retorted, instinctively. "I've heard the whole 'you're in love' spiel before, my dear. It doesn't cut any ice."  
  
"So you have a partner at home?" There was genuine curiosity in Dima's tone. Ria conceded that she had been less than forthcoming about her personal life. She supposed she would have to remedy that now.  
  
"No. I have no need of a partner," she informed him. "Charlie is my best friend. I do love him, in a very platonic fashion, of course I do. But it's nothing more than that."  
  
"Why not?" Tanya demanded. Ria looked at her curiously.  
  
"What do you mean, 'why not'?"  
  
"Why is it not more than friendship? Charlie is a very attractive man, you are a beautiful woman, you appear to be happily married, whether you believe it or not. What is stopping you from being together?"  
  
"You can't force love, Tanya," Ria replied, patiently. "Not that kind of love. We'd only hurt each other if we tried."  
  
"You have to excuse her," Dima said, heeding the note of warning in Ria's tone. "Since we have become...how do you say it...affianced...she wants everyone to have a happy ending." He wrapped his arm around Tanya's waist as he spoke, and Ria watched them with a mixture of joy and envy. Joy because they had found each other, and envy because she was still very much alone. She left them to their own devices, and wandered to the corner of the room, away from the crowd.  
  
"You were very quiet at tea today," Charlie observed as the two of them subjected a Ukrainian Ironbelly to a health check. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Ria told him, running her hand over the dragon's scales. "I just wanted to think, that's all."  
  
"Are you sure?" Charlie sounded concerned.  
  
"I'm fine," she said, not entirely sure if she meant it. The various romances that had emerged were beginning to grate on her nerves. She didn't expect most of them to last; they were flirtations aimed at relieving the monotony of being in a place where the most exciting form of entertainment was Scrabble, but she envied people like Tanya and Dima who were quite clearly head over heels in love. She wondered if she would ever feel like that about someone. She doubted it. She was too wary of getting hurt again.  
  
"You're an awful liar, Ri," Charlie told her. "Tell Uncle Charlie what the problem is."  
  
"There is no problem," she insisted. Charlie studied her appraisingly.  
  
"I don't believe you," he said, simply, as he checked the dragon's nostrils for any sign of ill health. "You've been quiet and wistful all day. Talking about it might help, as my old ma used to say."  
  
"Your mother is not old, Charlie Weasley," Ria told him. "She is a very lovely woman."  
  
"You wouldn't say that if you were on the receiving end of one of her lectures," Charlie informed her.  
  
"Now who's the liar," Ria asked, provocatively. "You worship the ground your mother walks on."  
  
"That doesn't mean that she's always lovely," Charlie told her. "And don't try and change the subject."  
  
"You wouldn't understand," Ria told him, realising that he wasn't going to accept anything other than an admission of unease.  
  
"Try me."  
  
"No," she said firmly. "Look, Charlie, I appreciate you trying to help, I really do. Right now, though, perhaps I want to revel in my own depression. That does happen, you know."  
  
"It doesn't sound all that healthy to me," Charlie responded. "You know I'll only worry about you if you don't tell me, right?"  
  
"Stop trying to blackmail me," she warned him.  
  
"Who said anything about blackmail?" Charlie asked, in a hurt tone.  
  
"You're trying to guilt me. Well it ain't gonna work, Mister."  
  
"You're cute when you do that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Wrinkle your nose up. Sort of like a rabbit."  
  
"I am not a rabbit," Ria protested, swatting him.  
  
"No, you're a very beautiful, talented, caring, friendly - did I mention beautiful – lady," Charlie agreed. "Who right now looks like a wet weekend in Dorset."  
  
"Gee, thanks, hon," Ria replied, feeling better in spite of herself. There was something about bantering with Charlie that brought out her good spirits.  
  
"My pleasure," Charlie told her, as he patted the patient dragon (who had, admittedly, been thoroughly doped up prior to the check-up). "I think we're done."  
  
Arriving back at the hut that evening, Ria's thoughts turned once again to her relationship with Charlie. It was difficult for that not to happen when all around her were reminders of his presence. She firmly believed what she had told Tanya; she and Charlie were most definitely platonic, but she would be a fool if she didn't notice that he was attractive. Perhaps, in another lifetime, she might even have been interested in him. But instinctively, she knew that any romantic entanglement with Charlie would place her heart at risk, and for her the old idiom remained true. Once bitten, twice shy. Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she lowered herself on to the bed.  
  
She wished that she could turn back the clock. There were many men of her acquaintance whom she knew she could have a healthy relationship with. But Ria was someone who felt things deeply, and the passage of time had done little to assuage the pain of betrayal. It was a bitter pill to swallow. She was by nature an affectionate person, but ghosts of the past had rendered her withdrawn and fearful. She watched her sisters and their husbands as they married and had children, and she delighted in the accomplishments of her nieces and nephews, who in turn doted on her. But the day that she had been betrayed, she had vowed never to put her heart on the line again. She resigned herself to the eternal position of maiden aunt.  
  
It wasn't what she had wanted from life, though. She adored children, always had done, and had longed to have a family of her own to fuss over and to love. She craved the security that such a situation offered her. Although she knew that the Rutherfords were her family, and that she would always be welcome there, she was an adult, and she wanted to create her own life away from that of her siblings and parents. But Aiden's betrayal had meant that her siblings and parents had become her life, along with a few precious friends.  
  
Like Charlie.  
  
She remembered their first meeting as if it were yesterday. She had arrived at the reserve, tired and hungry, still in the grips of a pain she had yet to come to terms with. Then her red headed saviour had seen her, and from that moment on, she had felt safe. Charlie had seen to everything, reintroduced her to Jon, found her room, offered her the friendly face that she so desperately needed. Well... that wasn't entirely true...  
  
"What are you laughing at?" the object of her thoughts broke into them.  
  
"I was just remembering our first meeting," she told Charlie, chuckling again.  
  
"Ah, yes, the infamous Rutherford!" Charlie smirked. "You were one stroppy chick, Ri!"  
  
Ria thought back to her arrival at the Reserve and laughed. Charlie was right, she had been rather grumpy. But that didn't mean that she was going to let him get away with saying it. Retribution was called for.  
  
"Well, you would be pretty 'stroppy', as you put it, if on arrival at your new place of work you were greeted by the words 'Good God, it's Becca Rutherford's baby sister. What the hell are you doing here?'"  
  
"Okay, so maybe I was a little...incredulous," Charlie admitted.  
  
"Becca's little sister? Charlie, I travelled across the damn continent to get away from that stigma, and there I was, bone weary, greeted with the past I was running away from!"  
  
"So you admit you were running away?" Charlie asked, his tone suddenly serious. Ria could have kicked herself. One slip of the tongue and he was back to his protective psycho-babble.  
  
"Yes, I was running away. Do you blame me?"  
  
"It's not usually a great ploy, Ri," Charlie chastised her.  
  
"You're a bit late with that admonition," Ria said, a touch defensively.  
  
"I know," Charlie told her. "But then, I've never really known what you were running away fromHe's. I've met your family, and they're wonderful. I've heard rumours, but nothing that I'd credit, and you've never seen fit to share that particular problem with me."  
  
"Give me a break, Charlie," Ria snorted. "Yes, my family is wonderful. But you don't know as much as you'd like to know, and I'm not likely to tell you. It's not the fact that I ran away that bothers you, it's the fact that you don't know why!" She could feel her temper rising, even as the words came out. And, if she was honest, she regretted them as soon as they left her lips.  
  
"That's not true," Charlie said, simply. "Sure, it would be nice if you trusted me enough to tell me this big bad secret of yours, but I'm more concerned about the fact that you still haven't faced your demons. That stuff with the Kettleworths, that was one of them, and kudos to you for making the decision to deal with that, but that's not all of it, is it?"  
  
"So what if it isn't?"  
  
"Don't play games with me, Ria. I care about you. I've always cared about you, even when you were just someone else's kid sister. You're much more than that now, and if you weren't so damn stubborn you would-" he broke off abruptly.  
  
"I would what?"  
  
"You'd work out just how special you are," Charlie said, so quietly that she wasn't even sure she heard him properly.  
  
"I'm just a girl, Charlie."  
  
"You're a girl with a past."  
  
"Everyone has a past. I gave someone my heart. They walked all over it. How hard is that to comprehend."  
  
"There's more to it than that." It wasn't a question. Charlie was no fool, and having started on this, Ria knew that he wouldn't let it drop until she had finished with her tale of woe.  
  
"Yes." She said, still not entirely sure that she wanted to relive moments she had been trying for forget for so long.  
  
"Are you going to tell me?"  
  
"Do I have a choice?"  
  
"You always have a choice, Ri," Charlie said, joining her on the bed. "I would never force you to do anything. I hope you know that."  
  
"You see, that's why it's so damned hard," Ria snapped, her nerves getting the better of her.  
  
"What?" Charlie was clearly confused.  
  
"You're so bloody nice all the time, I can't even tell myself that you're out to use and abuse me, because you're clearly not. For goodness' sake, Charlie, you know more about me than anyone else in this world! Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself!"  
  
"I care about you," he told her. "I want to help you. But you have to let me first."  
  
"I suppose," Ria sighed. "It's a long story," she added, hoping to dissuade him whilst hoping that he would not be dissuaded.  
  
"I've got time."  
  
Ria took a deep breath. She hadn't spoken about this to anyone since the event, and she wondered why she wanted to let it out now. "I've always been a bit of a tomboy, never had a problem with getting my hands dirty, as you know. And after leaving Hogwarts, I hooked up with Pecus. You know that too. But what I didn't mention was how I met Aiden. He was a Quidditch player, a friend of Becca's. I'd gone home to see the family, and Becca invited me to one of his matches. Well, who was I to turn down free Quidditch tickets? So I went. And it was incredible. He was amazing. I'll admit, I was a bit starstruck. And after the match – which Aiden's team won, by the way – Becca introduced us. And he was incredibly charming, flattering. He called me beautiful, and he looked at me in that way, as if he'd never seen a woman until he saw me. Before I knew it, we were dating. It was blissful. I've always had something of an inferiority complex, being adopted and everything. It got pretty serious pretty quickly." Here she paused, a slightly wistful look on her face, not noticing the murderous look in Charlie's eyes. Shaking herself out of the memory, she returned to her tale. "But I had my work and he had his. And working with Pecus was unpredictable. I wasn't like most girls, home by five every evening, always available for a date. We had to take what we could. Well, Pecus had flu, and went home. Gave me a fortnight off, so Aiden whisked me off to Scotland and proposed. The most romantic thing you could possibly imagine. And I said yes. It was stupid; I shouldn't have done it. I hardly knew him. But I accepted. So there we were, engaged." Once again her face took on a distant look.  
  
"How old were you?" Charlie asked, jerking her back to reality.  
  
"Eighteen. Stupid, wasn't it, getting engaged at that age. I was practically a child. My parents tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't have any of it. It was my life to do as I pleased with, and Aiden was what I wanted. Anyway, once the two weeks were over, things went back to the way they used to be. I was away, he was training, we kept in contact through letters, and our relationship was kind of non-existent. But I was oblivious to all that. He loved me, and that made me happy. We set a date, and everything. We were going to get married in May, a fairytale wedding. I went home unexpectedly for Valentine's Day. Have you ever wondered why I hate it?" Charlie nodded. "I hate it because it's the day that my world fell to pieces. I wanted to surprise Aiden. And surprise him I did. But it wasn't quite the surprise I had hoped for. I found him in bed with Gemma. My own sister. If he had just been unfaithful, that wouldn't have been so bad. But unfaithful with Gemma? That was too much. I didn't know what to do. I ran." She could feel the tears welling up as she spoke. "I ran as fast as I could, I just wanted to get away. I didn't know how they could do that to me. I... I..." At this point words failed her, and Charlie pulled her into his arms, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, rubbing her back, soothing her. Eventually she calmed down enough to finish her story. "They got married. He left me for my sister, and he married her, and she has the life that I was supposed to have. And it hurts, Charlie. It's a constant reminder of betrayal. That's why I came here. To get away from it all. Yes, I ran away. Do you blame me?"  
  
"No," Charlie said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "I could never blame you."  
  
"I've never had a boyfriend since, not really. Oh, I know you were worried about Jacques, but the womaniser thing is a pose. He's about as gay as they come, and good for him. I just wanted to get away from everything that night. A Valentine's Ball. Hah, what was there to celebrate?"  
  
"You should have told me," Charlie said, playing with her hair.  
  
"Maybe. I wasn't ready to tell you then, though. And I didn't want pity. I hate pity. Do you think I didn't have enough of it when everyone found out. 'Oh look, poor Ria, her fiancé left her for her sister.' I was every gossip's dream! No one knew anything at the Reserve, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't want pity, and I didn't want to feel like a freak. I left the country as soon as Gem and Aiden got married. I had to go to the wedding, Charlie. I couldn't not. I went for my parents' sake, and I hated every minute of it. And as soon as it was over, I left for Romania. Pecus had never like Ade. Said I deserved better. He would have hung him up by his...well, let's just say he wasn't impressed. He arranged the job at the Reserve. He tried to talk me out of it, he wanted me to stay with him. But at the time, I thought it was my work that was the problem. I know differently now. One day, perhaps I'll do some more work with Pecus, but at the moment, I'm happy in Romania."  
  
"Did you forgive them?" Charlie asked the question Ria had been dreading.  
  
"Yes. No. I don't know. On some levels, yes. I forgave them for loving each other. They love each other far more than Aiden ever loved me. I suppose I forgave them for most things. But they hurt me. I don't hate them for it. They did the wrong thing, but ultimately things worked out for the best. But I feel bad. Jessie hardly knows me, and the new baby won't really. I can't look at them with out wondering about what might have been, you see. But it was for the best. It hurts, but they're happy. Everyone is happy. As long as I'm away from the happy family, I can deal with it."  
  
They sat up for a long time that night, discussing her past, Charlie keeping a protective hold on her at all times, helping her to deal with the pain that she had lived with for so long. She knew that she didn't love Aiden, she had come to terms with that months ago. But now was a time for moving on. Until she dealt with the past, she could not move into the future. 


End file.
